Imagine
by lezonne
Summary: Bellatrix tortures Hermione for information when Harry and Ron accidently leave her at Malfoy Manor, and Draco finds her in his dungeons a few days later, blind. What new methods is his aunt trying out, and what did his father do to make her sly away from all human contact? Things can only get more complicated. Set during book 7 and will probably disregard most of it.
1. Introduction

**Disclaimer: **All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea. Thanks to my new beta for this story **Tessa Cresswell** who has gone through and edited all the chapters to date! 7/23/2012. Enjoy :)

**a/n: **A random story that's been in my head for a while and that I decided to write while stuck on another. Do you like? Hate? Can you guess yet what's wrong with her? Let me know, and I might update lovelies!

Draco Malfoy didn't like the cold air of the Manor's dungeons. He liked the dungeons themselves far less. In fact, the youngest Malfoy avoided them at all costs.

Today however, was an exception.

It had been a few days since Harry Potter and his friends escaped from the Manor. His father had snatched the Granger girl's arm at the last moment and thrown her back onto the stone floor moments before his aunt threw her dagger and the group disappeared, leaving Potter's Mudblood friend to defend herself without magic.

He knew very little of what happened to her after that, just that he had been able to hear her screams for a while afterwards, even in the confines of his room. Without a silencing spell, her cries had carried through his home for hours. Voldemort himself had come to see the Mudblood, and discreetly handed her over to Bellatrix Lestrange for interrogation.

Draco was quite thankful to not be that girl. His sadistic aunt could come up with multiple, twisted ways to squeeze the answers out of her.

From what the blond had heard, and that was a very minimal amount of information since she was moved to the dungeons, Granger had yet to cave. He had to give her credit; the girl had some major tolerance to pain and serious self restraint, no matter how foolish it was. Why sacrifice her own life for Potter's? At this rate, Draco doubted the Wonder Boy could win.

Most days, he took to staying in his bedroom. Lately, the Dark Lord had very little for him to partake in. After his refusal to kill Dumbledore, and his resistance to tell Bellatrix that it was Harry Potter in their very home a few days prior, the pale bald man only ever called on Draco to punish him now. That first night, when they had moved Granger down to the dungeons, Voldemort himself had turned his wand on the blond and crucio-d him until he couldn't stand. Since then he had been avoiding the Death Eaters all together; even his own family.

It was day number five, and Draco wondered what condition his aunt had left the Gryffindor in. Aunt Bella had left just yesterday morning with her husband and his father Lucius, to go off on some mission for their precious Lord. Voldemort had been gone from the Manor too since placing Hermione in his aunt's care, apparently planning to gather something and confront Harry Potter soon. This was his chance to go and see the girl, and probably his only one at that.

The blond stepped onto the stone floor of the dungeons, walking down the long hallway that ran under the majority of the manor, glancing through the windows of the cells. He recognized few and far faces, but some were students he had gone to school with; people he had sat beside and studied with since his first year. And now they were being tormented in his home.

Draco shuddered, pushing that detail from his mind. He was there to find Hermione Granger, not the other unfortunate souls stuck here in his home.

Four cells further, he peered in another room and spotted a mass of brown dirty curls sprawled out on the floor, the girls head turned away from him. Using Voldemort's alternated spell, he unlocked the door and pushed it open, staring down at the figure in the dim light.

That was definitely Hermione Granger, or whatever was left of her. He clenched his jaw and silently lit his wand, watching her weak hands claw at the ground.

As light filled the dirty space, he registered that the girls back was rising and falling slightly. A mop of messy brown hair, matted in what he could only imagine to be blood, clung to her back. As the sound of his entering footsteps she had tried to crawl away, but now her hands were clawing uselessly at the stone, and he could see that her fingernails were torn and bloody from her past efforts. He swallowed, wondering what had happened to her.

"Granger," he asked, not sure at what he was seeing. This couldn't possibly be the girl from a few days ago.

"Get away from me," she screamed, rolling on her side, and bracing her arms in front of her. "Just leave me alone! I don't know! I don't know!" The last few words dissolved into sobs, slurring her final words so he could hardly understand them.

"Calm down," he snapped, not sure why she was acting this way around him. Potter's friend had been brave even when his aunt was carving words into her arm. What else could Bellatrix have done to make a paranoid, blithering idiot out of the smartest witch from school?

_And why does she have her bloody eyes closed? If she opened them she would realize it's just me; pathetic, cowardly Malfoy. _He scowled at the thought. There was no point denying it-he was afraid of the growing war and had no interest in being involved, but it was a little late for that. Now though, it seemed he could weasel his way out, what with Voldemort hating him and all.

The girl on the floor apparently found some strength and scrambled further back from him, arms still in front of her. "Stay away from me!"

He was becoming a bit irritated. Soundlessly shutting the door with his magic, he put up a silencing charm so no one would realize he was down there with her. Wand still held in front of him, he scowled. "Will you calm down Granger? It's only me, and I didn't even come down here to bother you. Quite the opposite actually if you would fucking listen."

She didn't lower her arms, but stiffened. "Malfoy," she asked hesitantly, eyes still closed.

He rolled his silver ones, wondering why she still had yet to turn her harsh, Gryffindor glare on him. "Yes, and if you opened your eyes you would already know that."

The girl flinched and moved further away from him, further into the wall she was already against. He watched her attempt to scramble helplessly away from him, before she started moving to the right, against the wall, apparently realizing that she wasn't going to get anywhere that way. Once she hit a corner, she paused and whimpered, "No."

"Well stop running around on the floors like a bloody animal. It's low, even for you." He let the comment slip in, when his heart wasn't into it. He wanted an answer now as to why she was persistently running around blind.

"Nothing's too low for me," she murmured, hugging her knees.

He scoffed. "Since when do you agree to things like that? Come off it Granger, this isn't you so stop acting like a wimp and try looking around maybe? This is pathetic."

She shook her head, her bottom lip now quivering. "Get out."

Despite the situation, he couldn't help but chuckle. "You have no place telling me to get out. If you haven't noticed, _you're _the captive here, not me. Learn that already Mudblood, and I'm sure things would be a little bit easier on you."

He watched her cringe again. So what if he was cruel? She was being difficult and refusing to open those stupid, brown eyes of hers, so why should he be kind? Fuck, he hadn't even come down preparing to be kind! His sole and only purpose was to see if his aunt had done away with the girl yet. He knew, so now he could leave.

And yet he was still standing there, waiting for her response.

It came, a few minutes later when she sniffled as he turned to go, tired of waiting for her. "Nothing's easy on me Malfoy. I can get over that."

"Yes, you're doing a brilliant job of it, sitting here scrambling around a stone cell with your bloody eyes closed." He glanced back, noticing her sudden jump at his words and shook his head. "Whatever Granger, have fun rotting away."

He turned again and stormed out in a gruff manner, slamming the girl's cell door shut as hard as he could. It echoed through the quiet place, and gave Draco a satisfied smirk. She was stubborn, stupid, and running around in there like a blind woman. Oh well, it wasn't his problem and he wouldn't dwell on it.

Besides, the Dark Lord and his father would lose it if they found him hanging around that Mudblood too much.

And as Draco Malfoy walked out of her cell, Hermione opened her eyes into the same terrifying blackness. She let out a sob and covered her mouth, horrified at what she _couldn't _see.

She knew one thing though; that had been Draco; the Malfoy she had gone to school with. His arrogant tone wasn't quite in place like it had been last time she saw him in school, and that made it hard to tell who he was instantly, but he certainly wasn't Lucius.

Lucius was as vile as Bellatrix.


	2. Chapter 1 D

**a/n: **Thanks for all the support on this story! I wasn't sure how it would go over, but I think there are a lot of interested people in this so I'll definitely continue :) Thanks to my new beta **Tessa Cresswell **as of 7/23/2012!

IMPORTANT! Chapter 1 (Introduction) was written from third person, but this chapter and on will be written from either Draco or Hermione's perspective. In Hermione's, there will be far more dialect then Draco's. I may write chapters on certain scenes from both peoples eyes, depending on how important I think it will be. This one is Draco, and the D or H will tell you who you'll be reading about! :)

Also, chapters will be very short, between 2,000-2,500 words.

**Bambi: **Glad to hear it!

* * *

I couldn't get her out of my head, and it was really beginning to piss me off. So what if Granger was losing her mind? It's not my concern and I shouldn't be losing sleep over the matter. But low and behold, I didn't sleep the entire night and now I'm in a bad mood.

I had breakfast with my mother, but she was distant, afraid. I think she fears my father's return. It's no secret to me that my parents relationship isn't good, but I don't think I have seen her be afraid of the man she married in a long time. Not since back in my second year when father was at Hogwarts a lot.

After the uncomfortable, slow breakfast I retired to my room. I've been here ever since, trying to push her from my thoughts. I was even wondering if she had water earlier! Can you believe that? Water! Of course the Mudblood has water, else she would be dead.

Even with that thought, I am still worried about her. It seems no matter what I do, she sneaks back into my mind. I'm so tired of it! Can't I focus on something else besides the Mudblood, who has now lowered herself to crawling around on the floor?

Eventually, I can't take it anymore. Snapping up my wand, I storm out of the comfortable bedroom, intent on going to see her. I could care less about whether or not she crawls around again, or even if she looks at me. I just want to know why she cowered away from me until she knew it was me, and not my father. Bloody hell, I just want to know if he's started it again!

No one's here today, just mother and I. It will be this way until tonight when my father stops by like he said. By then I'll have to be out of here to avoid his questions. I definitely can't stand those right now. Wandering down to the dungeons, I again notice the cold air and wonder why I didn't bring a cloak down to fight off the chill.

It's a bit strange that Granger isn't in the empty cell number one. She is probably the most important prisoner here, yet she is kept in cell twelve. Typically, Lord Voldemort keeps his most precious prisoners right at the front, so he can get to them quickly. I can't imagine what has to have happened to make them keep her so far down.

_Perhaps she has served her purpose. _I shake my head. If she had served her purpose, then everyone would have gained the information they needed, and she would be dead or, even sold off to someone. This thought makes me cringe. Unfortunately, I have witnessed a few of the things they do to the women sold to the Death Eaters, and none of it's pretty.

Apparently Granger is still holding something back.

I open her cell door again, and immediately I shut it and soundproof the room, making sure no one outside hears us. As I light my wand, I see the girl again shrinking away, fear etched all over her features.

But why the hell are her eyes still closed?

"Granger," I say coldly, studying the space. There are a few sheets thrown onto the floor for her, and a single toilet in the space. No soap, no sink, no bed. I had never noticed before how barren these cells are. A tray of awful looking food sits by the sheets, untouched. The cheap glass beside it has been drained, and I wonder if she gets anymore water for the day.

"M-Malfoy," she said, hesitant just like the last time. Her arm was hiding her face from my view now, and I couldn't tell if her eyes were closed still or not.

"Well yes, who else is going to walk in and not kick you," I say, trying to joke, but the sudden jolt from her tells me she doesn't see anything funny about my comment. "Don't be so scared Granger, it's only me," I try again, wondering if she is just going to start screaming again before I can ask her anything.

She nods stiffly, and slowly moves into a sitting position. Whatever she used to be wearing has been reduced to nothing more than rags, and she has to be freezing in the cold chamber. Had she been more important, I might have offered her my cloak.

As she gingerly folds her legs I notice the large quantities of blood have yet to decrease. Merlin, what did they do to her. It has dried across her back, chest, face, and her legs. I cringe, not even wanting to wonder why it's covering her thighs.

"I have a reason to be scared of all of you," she replied evenly, hands slowly sliding onto the ground as she felt for something. Eventually, her hand came in contact with the empty glass, yet she raised it to her lips. The sad look on her features made me wonder about her sanity as she tossed the glass away, and I watched it skitter across the floor.

"You do realize that glass was empty from the beginning," I say, flicking my wrist to bring me the object. With a bit of concentration I produce some more liquid for her, and gingerly hand the cup back to her. She doesn't take the offered drink, which I guess makes sense since her stupid eyes are closed. I nudge her shoulder with the cup and she immediately freaks out on me.

She shrugs off my light touch and her hands snatches out, a bit off center, and her nails barely rip across my skin, breaking it just enough on the edge. Cursing, I drop the cup, her drink forgotten, to give the stupid girl a hard shove into the floor.

She screamed the moment my hand leaves her battered shoulder, and on the ground she curls into the fetal position. My eyes must be bulging out of my head. I simply cannot believe what I'm seeing. _Granger cowering right in front of me? I must be asleep or something. _

"What's wrong with you," I bark, crossing my arms. She can't be for real. "Get off the ground Granger; you look horrible hiding away like that. Really, I didn't do anything that horrible. Have some backbone."

I watch her practically jump to her feet, leaning against the wall, head faced away from me. She is shaking, arms wrapped protectively around herself. Somehow, she has managed to keep her eyes closed.

I scowl, annoyed at this. "Will you open your eyes already? Merlin, you're stumbling around just as badly as yesterday! That wouldn't happen if your fucking eyes were open!"

At my seemingly 'harsh' tone, her eyes snap open, and I can feel my stomach drop.

I've seen a blind person before, and their eyes have always kind of creeped me out, but hers are awful. Not only are they a pale, ugly blue, but what had once been pure white is now littered with red lines, which look like they are bleeding. But that doesn't make sense. She should have blood running down her face at least if her fucking eyes are bleeding!

I nearly dropped my wand. Apparently knowing that people could see what she couldn't didn't settle right with Miss Mudblood, and that must be why she's kept her eyes closed the past few times I've come down.

Obviously the light was mute for her.

And the worst thing about the entire situation was that she listened to my screaming demand. She had apparently been too afraid of the outcome for not listening, and her eyes had immediately snapped open.

Well, come on! I'm not that scary.

Instead of immediately talking to the Gryffindor, I extend a hand and step forwards. Her senses are supposedly better now, but as I get closer she doesn't even seem to notice. Her eyes continue to stare uselessly past me, several inches too far to the right.

My bleeding hand barely touches her arm before she's trying to strike me again. "Fuck," I snarl, stepping away. She has herself pressed as far into the wall as she can.

I almost feel sorry for her, but I can't let that feeling surface. Once I started feeling sorry for her, I would pity her, and then I might want to help her. No, that emotion simply can't surface.

She still looks terrified.

With a sigh, I bring her cup back to me and fill it once more, this time purposefully thrusting it into her hand. She seems startled and staggers to the side a bit, and some of the liquid sloshes out onto the stone floor.

I roll my eyes and force myself to turn around and leave her. It was stupid to come down here, and figure out Bella's new method of torture. I didn't want to know the part my father played, and I had no interest in helping her. That would only put me in a terrible, confusing situation.

As I pass through the dining room upstairs mother stops me. "Draco?"

"Mother," I reply, my voice without emotion. I've learned to sound heartless lately, to guard myself even from my own blood, because it's safer.

"Sit with me," she said, trying to be pleasant. Because it's not the time to eat I sit directly at her right instead of the customary position at my father's side on the opposite end of the table.

"What is it?"

She pursed her lips. "Your father is returning tomorrow to check in with the Mudblood downstairs. Apparently, she has yet to beak, despite his and Bellatrix's best efforts."

I nod, refusing to speak on the subject. "He demands you meet him in the dungeons tomorrow around noon to interrogate the girl with him. _His_ Lord thinks it will be a worthy chance for you to prove your loyalties again." I don't miss the way my mother says 'his' instead of 'our'. She has never really agreed with the side of the war we are on, after all.

I can't remember a time when Narcissa Malfoy was proud of something myself or father did. Our lives have been twisted and morphed into nothing but servants for the Dark Lord, and while my father thinks it's an honor, I absolutely hate it. I lost my sanity sometime last year, and now I can probably never again return for some schooling. Whenever my heart's not into it, I usually fail at what I've been assigned, and that has earned me numerous scars. I am sure my mother suffers the same, but I have never been witness to one of her beatings, if Lucius dares to lay a finger on her, whereas she has seen most of mine. I can't determine really how much scarring the war has left on her, but I know she can't stand it.

"Great," I snap, not at all thrilled. I just got back from the girl's cell. Once I go down there with my father to torment her, the Mudblood will run whenever I bother to show my face down there. "But wasn't he supposed to return tonight.

_Since when was I ever planning to visit her again?_

She nods stiffly. "I don't know what he and your Aunt have done to her, but I am sure it's nothing pretty. Bella has been testing new methods of torture, did you know that? And something has held him up, I'm not quite sure yet but his letter was rushed, if not a bit excited."

_I know more than I would like to. _"I've heard about it." I ignore everything else she says, trying to focus on other things.

"Yes, well you might be witness to some of that tomorrow. Your father sounded thrilled in his letter to show you some things. I don't really care to ask what they are."

I nod, glancing at the clock. Dinner will be in a little over an hour and I want to go up to my room to think about Granger and her new blindness. A shiver rushes down my spine at the thought of father being there in her helpless state, alone. Why? Because my father can be a bloody awful man.

As I collapse on the mattress in my bedroom, curtains drawn, I can't help but be thankful he's not returning tonight. I just left the girl probably with the slightest bit of hope that I'm not a complete monster. But come tomorrow, I'll be down there for the third day in a row, watching or even _participating _in hurting her. I can feel my gut clenching.

My mother was always big on respecting women as a child, and told me I should never, under any circumstances, hurt a female. Come tomorrow, I'm not sure I can hold to that fucking promise. Turning onto my side, I beg for sleep to come, hopefully causing me to avoid dinner.


	3. Chapter 2 D

**A/n: **Keep those reviews coming! I loved the response from last chapter! You guys are the reason I keep writing. The more reviews the faster I update :D Oh, and the next chapter will definitely be Hermione's perspective! Thanks to my new beta **Tessa Cresswell **as of 7/23/2012!

**Bambi: **Hero? This is cowardly Malfoy we are talking about, afraid of his own father! I'm not so sure the hero is going to appear yet!

* * *

I can feel my hands shaking a bit, so I fist them and shove them into my pockets. Just yesterday I was down here giving Granger another glass of water, and now I was returning to possibly torment her. Honestly, I don't want to know what my father has done to make the girl scatter like that.

He's walking in front of me, his robe billowing out in an unnecessary manner. We are descending to the dungeons, and all I can think about is the irony of these two days; I'll be lucky if Granger doesn't try to rip my head off after this.

Perhaps I'll get to see something really disturbing if my father left her eyes blind instead of my aunt. Whoever it was, I don't think I can handle observing how they managed that trick.

"Son," Lucius says, pausing a few cells from her own. He glances behind him and I incline my head to let him know I heard. "The girl is rather tough, despite her current state. You are not here to cast spells today unless instructed. Do you understand me?"

"Yes father," I say, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. That would only irritate him, and I don't need to go into Granger's cell looking battered, even if she can't bloody see me.

"Good. The Dark Lord is still rather unhappy with you. If you listen well the next few times I go to interrogate prisoners, you may fall back into favor, and that would make me very proud." He didn't need to put emphasis on the last part for me to understand; I either fell back into favor or get punished for my failure.

I nod again, and he turns back, walking directly to her cell. I clasp my hands behind my back and follow him in, his blond hair glowing as he lights his wand. I lean purposefully on the wall as far away from her as possible, diverting my eyes.

There is no silencing spell cast, and I know anyone who is nearby will hear her screams soon enough. And instead of a stuttered greeting from her, she shrinks back as the door shuts on its own. Lucius takes a few steps towards her, and stops just short.

"Mudblood," he growls, and I bother to glance over. He's glaring down at Granger, who is trying desperately to press herself into the wall behind her. His intimidating size can't be what's scaring her; it must be the fact that she can't pinpoint who exactly it is. It's interesting though how she always seems to know it's me...

He kicks Granger in the stomach once with one of the Dragon hide boots, and I wince at the sound of broken bones rubbing together. Merlin, the girl might as well be in pieces!

"Ready to talk yet?" my father growls, bending down to look directly into her face. I can't stop looking now, wondering if he is usually like this or if it's worse for her without an audience.

She doesn't reply, and he grabs her hair, forcing her head up. Granger doesn't whimper, but I can see tears beginning to stain her face due to pain. It appears that she will cry, but not give the satisfaction of a vocal response. Interesting...so maybe that's why she hasn't broken yet? Granger turns her head back and forth, apparently trying to rip herself free. I almost feel pity watching the girl struggle; she is hopeless without her eyes.

Father growls, and throws her into the ground. For a moment my eyes widen as he rips the shredded material covering her upper body, exposing more of her pale, once smooth back. He wouldn't...rape Granger, would he?

My fears are dashed as instead of running his hands over her skin, he raises his cane and strikes her skin violently, the old wounds opening again. She shrieks, and I can understand the pain he is inflicting just then. But for my old schoolmate, it must be worse. She can't even defend herself, because every hit or so he changes the direction of the blows. Her wails fill the room.

I wince. He can't be blatantly beating her in front of me! My father might be malicious, but I never thought of him resorting to physical 'hand-to-hand' attacks if you will. I always assumed her screams were because of some terrible hex he threw her way.

I've counted the amount of times he's attacked her back for simply not answering. Seven times. As he raises his cane to strike her an eighth, I clear my throat and he takes a mild interest in me.

"Don't you think that's enough? She can't rightly answer you if she can't breathe," I say, overpowering her wails. Father looks rather unhappy that I have interrupted him, but listens as I speak anyways.

To my complete surprise, the cane lowers itself back to the ground at his side. "Perhaps you're right son; it would be better to question again." He nudges her with his foot, and I bite at my lip and the groan she admits between sobs. Her back is bleeding red, and I feel my stomach flipping. Blood- too much blood for my liking.

"Are you ready to speak girl," he says, addressing her again. His shoe continues to prod at her outer leg, and she continues to ignore him, crying. Now here is something I _never _imagined seeing; Granger not even taking a stand during a fight.

There's no way she had broken this much in a matter of days. Then again, they had taken a rather important sense from her...so maybe I am wrong.

Granger whimpers and rolls on her side, spitting in the direction of his shoe. It barely hits, but it's enough to set my father off. In an instant, his eyes are angry, and his cane is raised to bash her face in. I rush over to stop it just in time before the hard bottom impacts her face.

"That probably won't do any good father," I say, hoping against hope that he will get the clue and not kill her by stabbing her bony chin with his cane. Gruffly, he shoves me back and glares.

"Stop getting in the way Draco; we will discuss this upstairs," he hisses, glancing down at the girl. I don't move away, afraid that he may try to end her life again.

Why am I afraid now exactly? Oh right, if I fail doing what is asked of me the Dark Lord will kill me, if not my mother as well. I doubt father will be killed as well, unless I really mess up.

Granger is faced away from me now, and I'm glad. Her face can't be any better looking than her poor back. How is she surviving down here, while losing so much blood? My thoughts are interrupted as father speaks again.

"Where was Harry Potter headed to when he escaped the Manor," Lucius asks coldly, leaning on his cane again, instead of using it to beat her.

"I don't know," she gasps, covering her face. "Whatever plans H-Harry or Ron may have come up with w-were done while I was with B-Bellatrix. I don't know anything!"

She's stuttering? What's wrong with this picture? Merlin, I already saved her from death-by-cane, shouldn't she be a bit more relaxed now.

Lucius strikes her knee and I realize that she should really remain tense after all.

"Lies! Tell me where the Order's base is."

Granger shakes her head now, an action that seems to be extremely painful to her. "No."

"Insolent girl," he hisses, glaring at me. I have no idea what he wants. "Light your wand boy; I'd rather have some light."

Something tells me I'd much rather not see anything, but I reluctantly draw my wand and cast a Lumos spell. The next words that slip off my father's tongue really make me wish I had accidently dropped it, or perhaps knocked his from his hands.

"Crucio."

Watching this particular spell is not something that calms my churning stomach. I've been on the receiving end of this more than once, and listening to a blind Granger scream in agony as the curse attacks her really isn't pleasant at all. This spell has too many painful memories for me, and witnessing it now makes me want to leave the dungeons entirely and be up in my room where I usually am when he's interrogating her.

Father lets up on the spell after a brief minute, but she is breathing hard, gasping for air. I'm certain if she were able to see, those once brown orbs would be glaring up at me in anger and hurt. Anger, because I'm watching, and hurt because I'm only watching.

"Has that jarred your memory at all Mudblood?" father asks venomously, smoothing out his long hair. I could never let my hair grow to that length.

She coughs, and I watch her body shake a bit, hair falling over her face a bit. She shakes her head no- ever the defiant Gryffindor even in this terrible state- and my father glares. "Draco, grab her hair. I want to see this girls face."

I am thoroughly confused at his request, but kneel beside her anyways, grasping her head to pull her head up as gently as possible. The dried blood is still there, and I feel sick touching it, and feeling the blood from her back soaking the leg of my trousers, my other hand still grasping my wand. Father's wand is glowing red now, and my eyebrows narrow. What the hell was he going to do? Burn the poor girl?

Did I just consider Granger to be a poor girl? She would probably try to kill me if she knew.

The wood touched her cheekbone and she screamed. I nearly dropped her back onto the floor in surprise, but my focus was the searing wand now cutting a small mark into her skin, burning it raw. He dragged the wood up near her ear, burning as he went before pulling back. I was sure I would be sick as soon as I could be.

She whimpered, and apparently father expected me to drop her back on the ground like filth, if the glare he had fixed on me was any indication. I dropped her quickly, trying to ignore the blood on me as I stood again.

"Perhaps Mudblood," he was saying, his voice cruel, "you will consider speaking the next time I come down. I may have to throw my son at you as well if you don't learn to listen." I wince as he kicks her out of the way, heading back to the door. I can't believe he will leave her to die like that! Isn't she important?

"Come my son," he snaps, and I turn to go. Damnit, did I just stand around and watch all of that? That can't be right! Well, if Granger didn't hate me before, she certainly does now.

And I think I may hate myself a little too. I shove my hands back into my pockets, not even bothering to remove the spell from my wand. Father walks out, not waiting for me to follow. I walk behind him, quite a distance away as we journey back upstairs. At the end of the dungeons he spins around and slaps me, the blow sending me to the ground in surprise.

"That's for stepping out of line," he says venomously, shoving his hair back. I quickly stand up, tasting blood from my split lip, watching his cool gaze with guarded eyes. He takes a step forwards. "The next time I go about a tactic with that girl, you will do well to remain silent."

I hold his gaze, fearing what will happen if I look away. "If you insist," I snap.

"Getting touchy with me won't do Draco; the girl wont' die anyway, not until the Dark Lord says. You think I am that stupid? I wouldn't kill someone as valuable as her simply out of rage for her non-co-operation."

I nod tightly. "But leaving Granger to die will not have the same result?"

His eyes flare. "Don't even start worrying about that Mudblood Draco; she will not bleed to death if you are so concerned. An elf will see to her, so she is ready for another go when I return."

I inwardly groan. "And when will we be returning?"

He scoffs, and I feel something in me drop. "We? No son, I will go back by myself before you return. You will not see her until another week has passed. You obviously can't take it yet," father continues, eyes angry. "Don't expect me to be any nicer either simply because today was hard. She needs to learn her place, just like you apparently."

I don't even respond to him, just press my lips together. I can already feel the guilt building in my chest, and the urge to clear my stomach still growing, and I know I will have to go check on her at the earliest convenience, once I empty the contents of my stomach.

After a moment, he gives up on my answer. "Go clean; you don't want her blood tarnishing you."

That's all the reason I need to brush past him and hurry to my rooms, where I have a fully functional bathroom and more than blood soaked sheets to sleep on.

* * *

**A/n: **Review? I'd love to hear what you think!


	4. Chapter 3 H

**a/n: **Here's another update! I'm trying to keep them frequent :) In return, maybe leave some feedback? Thanks to my new beta **Tessa Cresswell **as of 7/23/2012!

**Bambi: **Kill him again? No, not yet!

**anon: **Glad you like it! Here's the next update.

* * *

It hurts, but it always hurts. I've learned that anything with Lucius is not sugar coated, and every time he visits it's nearly as bad as Bellatrix.

But this time, it was worse. I know Malfoy was here, and he _watched. _

I try to ignore the house elf that is slowly helping me heal, continually apologizing and saying he is bad. I don't catch his name, but he reminds me so much of Dobby because of this scared little attitude. I think Lucius treats everything the exact same way, even his son.

I know this poor little elf won't help me much, simply because his master won't allow it. I'm only allowed the help of this elf because I can't die yet. No, I'm still needed for information about the Order and that little fact that I am Harry Potter's best friend. Perhaps Voldemort thinks this will make Harry act faster.

_Harry...Ron... I wonder where they are right now, and if I'll ever see them again. _A tear slips down my cheek, and that is bad. I hardly drink now, seeing as I can rarely locate the glass, and I don't think any new water has come.

And Merlin does my body hurt. It hurts to breathe, it hurts to exist. I'm used to it after this much time, but it doesn't help. The physical pain is terrible, but it's nothing compared to the emotional conflict I've been having.

I can't see. It's like I've lost the biggest part of myself - well okay, a big part of myself, but not the biggest. I stumble around everywhere, and it's terrifying. I thought I could cope like this, if I just learned to deal with everything. But this place doesn't allow me that luxury. I'm so weak from the abuse they throw at me, and I can never determine where the spell is coming from, because I can't hear a wand.

It's insane how badly I've taken all of this. I'm levelheaded, yet I scatter as soon as that bloody door opens. And the person I trust most here is Malfoy!

Well, I trust him as much as I can, which is hardly at all. The only thing he did good today is that he seemed to stop the bloody abuse, even if everything still hurts. It's inhuman what kind of curses these dark wizards will use; I thought Crucio was bad until Bellatrix started trying things out. I would take Crucio any day if it meant less of the others.

Now I'm alone, as the little elf leaves. I want to thank him, but it hurts to move my jaw after it repeatedly met the ground during those strikes. I barely gave it a nod goodbye in the dark. I think it was definitely a boy though.

I'm alone again, and I can feel every broken bone now. The pain is impossible; I should be dead soon at this rate. My thoughts move to Harry and Ron again; what are they doing right now? Did they find a safe house? I hope so. And I hope everyone is alright.

Another tear slips down my face. Despite the pain I've been experiencing, I am glad I'm the one here. If this had been Harry, it would all be over. And Ron has too much of a temper; he would crack eventually. His typical behavior would probably be his downfall, without him even meaning to. Apparently it is best that I am here; I'll just have to remember that when someone comes back for more information.

I'm crawling around looking to see if there's a drink earlier when I hear the door to my cell open again and I scramble away from the noise, knocking something over as I hurry. _Damn, I really needed the water. _I've pressed myself as tightly as possible against the hard brick wall behind me, and my breathing quickens. No, not this again!

There's a pause in time as the door shuts again before I hear a voice, my heart about ready to jump from my body. I cant' take a second time tonight. "Granger."

I almost relax, until I remember who this is. Malfoy is still on the opposite side; he may not yet have hurt me, but he sides with his father not me. For all I know, he could be down here to try his own hand at torture.

I almost grin. Malfoy couldn't even kill Dumbledore last year. How could he watch someone suffer for longer amounts of time, at the fault of his own hand? My jaw is still in pain, but I respond to him anyways. "Malfoy..."

His sigh is loud, and his footsteps echo in my small cell. I still remember a vague image of what it looked like when I first came, but I'm sure everything is different now that I have been thrown to the floor so many times. His footsteps sound closer, and I scramble down the wall, my ankles burning as I do. I don't want him touching me!

"Would you fucking stand still," he snaps, sounding far too close for comfort. I'm nearly reminded of when he saw my eyes; he was so close. I note that this time he hasn't even brought up my eyes.

_Probably doesn't want to see them again. _

I don't want to respond to him and open my mouth. It's on fire as it is. Instead I give him a nod, and I hope that he has lit his wand so that he can see the action. Apparently, he had, because I can hear him taking a few more steps. The sudden feel of a wand touching my torn stomach, which was only alright to deal with because the elf was demanded to keep me alive, has me screaming.

The feel is instantly gone and I notice his hurried steps back. I move further, into a corner. Those damn tears are back again. "Fuck Granger! I wasn't going to hurt you!"

For some reason, I don't believe him. I guess years of hatred from Malfoy have that effect. I curl my knees towards my chest, keeping the hiss of pain as low as possible. I'm hoping he goes away soon.

_I wish I had learned wandless magic when I had the chance!_

He is walking again, but only a few paces. "Calm down Granger, I'm not going to hurt you alright? Now sit still before you bleed to death."

I almost grin madly. "I can't bleed to death," I hiss, knowing that I look nearly dead. "I'm not allowed to die yet."

He scoffs, and I wonder if I sound as bad to him as I do to myself. "I know that already. No one is going to kill you until they are allowed, and I'll bet you anything it's my dear aunt."

He came down to be cruel? I scoot further into the corner, feeling my last nail tear as it hits the stone hard. I hate that woman!

I barely hear him whisper something, and my heart jumps to my throat. No! He can't be about to torment me after the conversation we had been holding! It's just cruel! I scream, but the pain I'm waiting for isn't there.

In fact, my head is starting to feel better. It takes a moment, but I realize Malfoy just _healed _me. The diminishing pain is nearly gone, and I want to gape. He could not be seriously healing me right now.

"Now will you stand still," he asks again, his tone cocky. I can practically hear the smirk in his voice. "I'm not down here to hurt you, but if you would like to shun my help I'll gladly leave as well."

I purse my lips and look down, not knowing what to say. I will never ask this bastard for help, that's certain. But, if he is going to put himself in harm way to heal me up some, I won't argue right now. I would give anything to not feel my broken bones anymore. The rest I think I can handle.

Another few short steps, and he speaks again. "I'm guessing that's not a no then? You would probably have just told me to get lost otherwise. Now lay down."

Panic shoots through my body. There is no way in hell I'm letting him do anything like that to me! I scurry further into my corner, swatting out blindly to swat his face. My broken, bloody finger tips hit what must be either his cheek or chest, and I can feel myself digging into skin. He immediately hits my hand hard enough to be propelled back into the wall. I whimper, and nearly curse myself for that action.

"If you are going to resort to scratching my fucking skin, then you can bleed to death for all I care! Fuck, maybe I'll open a few wounds myself!"

As soon as he has said it, I'm reaching blindly to hit him again. The nerve! He can't come down being considering one moment and an arsehole the next! He catches my wrists easily enough before he is speaking again.

"Cut the shit Granger," he growls, and I almost sense him leaning over me. "Your choices are very limited Mudblood; either accept some help and feel a bit better or bleed to death because you push my hand."

I try to shove him away, but it just hurts. "Fuck you," I hiss quietly.

He chuckles, and it sends panic all the way down my spine. He seems just as off as before. Perhaps he is having a conflict with himself about what to do. Whatever it is, I hope it's a good conflict.

"Shut up Granger," he finally says, letting me go. I hear him take a few steps, and I hope they are backwards. "I'll just leave you to your own bloody pain then, you ungrateful bitch."

How did I end up being ungrateful? There's a difference between being a bitch and being terrified! "I'm not being ungrateful," I say, my jaw on fire.

Maybe he would get the hint, and stop sending mixed signals. Maybe, he would leave. Or better yet, maybe he would help me, so I could just get out of here.

There's a sigh, and I feel a warmth on my shoulder as the skin is knitted back together. I'm impressed. Malfoy seems to know quite a bit about healing spells.

"Will you quit squirming like I'm about to kill you now? If I had planned to do that, I would've just walked in and done it immediately. If you would rather be in pain, by all means, I can go." He sounded bitter.

It took a long moment for me to decide to sit still. I was worried that he would turn on me and hurt me, but that didn't seem to be the case. I could feel my ribs not healing really, but the pain was subsiding. I would need potions for these bones to really heal, and I would not drink a potion from Malfoy, not in these circumstances.

The process seemed to take forever, and several times Malfoy would place his hand innocently enough on my arm to lean over and heal something else, and I would shudder. I give the prick credit; he moved for a moment at least.

By the time he was done, I almost thought I could maybe walk, but didn't dare try it with him around. I would not fall on my face in front of him, enough mortifying things have happened in his presence already. I waited for the sound of swift, departing footsteps, but none came. Curious, I spoke. "Are you still here?"

"Of course I'm still here," he snapped. "Can't you hear my breathing?"

"Why," I ask, my jaw still painful, but better. He doesn't respond at first, and I feel something shoved at me. Tentatively brushing my fingers in front of me, I touch his hand and feel it cupped around my glass. I take it away, and feel the slightly different weight. Was Malfoy generous enough to fill it again for me? I raise it to my lips, and relish at the cool feeling of water sliding down my throat.

The glass is empty when he speaks again. "I'll refill it Granger, but then I have to go before father notices my absence."

I almost say that he should stay, but I bite my tongue. It might be lonely, but I'm not desperate. The scarce minutes I share with Malfoy are just enough.

The glass is thrust back into my grip again before I respond, and his rushed footsteps tell me he is leaving. The cell door shuts before I speak.

"Thanks for the help...Malfoy."

* * *

**a/n:** Not the crazy Hermione this time... but she is still there! Remember, she was brilliant, so she can't become completely insane or it's ridiculous!


	5. Chapter 4 D

**Disclaimer: **This is overdue, but all characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea. Thanks to my new beta **Tessa Cresswell **as of 7/23/2012!

**Bambi: **Interesting idea!

* * *

I'm lying in my bed staring at the ceiling. My immaculate room suddenly feels like the biggest waste of space. I have spent too much time down in Granger's cell the last few days apparently, if I am doubting what I have is good.

But maybe I should feel bad. She had nothing down there, and in the condition I found her yesterday, _after _one of the elves had 'healed' her, it's a surprise she wasn't dead. I couldn't stomach the fact that my father did that without blinking an eye. I doubt he cares whether or not Granger lives or dies; it's all in favor for his Lord, after all.

It makes my stomach twist. I have never been witness to torture until last week, and now I've had enough for a lifetime. How can people possibly do that to other people? It's sickening.

I eventually get out of bed and prepare for the day, not calling any house elves to assist today. It's unusual, but I'm too distracted by the conditions I have found Granger in to pay it much mind, and I accidently button my shirt crooked. A quick look in the mirror alerts me of this, and I correct it before heading downstairs for the breakfast I have nearly missed. Stepping into the dining room I note that both of my parents are present for once.

"You're out of bed late this morning Draco," Father says the moment he spots me, but it's only a brief glance before his vision returns to whatever is in front of him, smirking.

I only huff and take a seat somewhere in the middle of this long table, about halfway between my parents. For once there aren't a litter of Death Eaters taking up part of the table, leering at my mother and glaring at me. It's almost pleasant, except for the icy presence of my father.

Breakfast is eaten in silence after that, and I don't even question what father is reading. It's probably something for Voldemort, and I wouldn't be allowed to read that anyways. As the meal ends and the elves come to pick up, father's strong grip stops me.

"I would like a word with you in my study in twenty minutes," he says, his tone telling me its not really a request but a requirement. I nod tightly, and go to my room to waste the next seventeen minutes.

Barely twenty minutes later, I'm stepping into father's study, hanging back by the entrance until he looks up to let me in. "Enter," he says, after I have stood in the doorway for nearly a full minute. It irritates me that he constantly controls my every movement, such as _when I can enter a bloody room without being hexed_, but I am in no position lately to say anything to him. Instead, I press my lips together and remain silent.

I step in and stand stoically in front of his desk, waiting for the lecture I will probably receive. Had he discovered that I had healed the Mudblood? Maybe he would just hex me and save me the trouble of listening to the same phrases I have heard since I could understand them.

Instead of doing either, he peers up at me through narrowed eyes. "The Mudblood seems taken with you."

I blink only twice. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me son," he says, not bothering to hide the irritation that was dominate in his voice, "the girl is taken with you."

"Where did you draw that conclusion from?"

He frowned, and I almost think this is when he will send me into the ground. Instead, he lets out a frustrated sigh and continues. "The girl was glancing towards you the entire time I interrogated her. For whatever reason," he says, staring intently into my eyes, "she seemed to believe she could trust you. Now I am not about to assume my son, a _Malfoy_, has been speaking with that filth behind my back. I will willingly believe, however, that she may trust you to help her because you both shared the same school. That effort in itself is fruitless for her, since I know you would never aid that filthy whore." He nearly spoke out and corrected that his father did not know anything about her sexual status, be it virginal or otherwise, but held his tongue as the old man continued. "She has placed some sort of belief in you that she can grab onto your trouser cuff like a peasant, and that you will help her if need be. The action is absolutely pathetic."

He paused here to snarl a bit at his works, and I took this opportunity to speak. "Where exactly are you going with this father? The girl has been blinded; I noticed it just yesterday when we went down to see her."

Lucius glared. "What I am saying Draco, is that if you can build a sort of bond with the girl - never friendship, mind you - her mind may let something slip, and then Voldemort would be pleased with the both of us. This is your opportunity to fall back into favor boy, and passing it up now will probably put you on permanent suspension from the inner circle." He chuckles here, and I can feel my stomach drop a bit. "That would be most unfortunate for the family name, but you would get off easy. Most members who fall out of favor are killed." He didn't bother lightening his tone or his expression as he told me this.

"You want me to draw information from her," I ask lamely, careful to keep my expression blank. The last thing I need is father going mad because he sees a flicker of disinterest, or worse, fear.

Yes, I'm fearful to get close to Granger. The girl has some sort of pull on me that is unsettling. I worry about her well being too much for my own good, and it will probably put me in jeopardy if I don't stop it. And worse, now father wants me to construct a bond? That can only further complicate things.

"Exactly." He is nodding, his eyes shining. Apparently, the prospect of this idea is something amazing for him, because he seems confident in this. "Now, the Dark Lord does not know of this plan. I will only be trying the idea with him at our next meeting, which you are presently excluded from. If he disregards the idea, you will never speak of this. If however he likes it, you will be updating him, often I would guess."

_Now _I understand. Father would never take on such a risky task himself without the Dark Lord's approval. It is extremely dangerous to go forward with things like this without first getting his approval. He is, after all, in charge, in control. If he does not agree with something involving his prize prisoners, it is banished.

By asking me to do this, father is willingly jeopardizing my life. The reality of this hits me full force in my midsection and I feel as though all the wind has been knocked out of me. It's a terrifying prospect, to forfeit my life for a cause I don't even believe in. Not only do my loyalties waver now from dear Voldemort, but the fact my father wants me to sacrifice my life in order to withdraw information from someone who would certainly wait a few days, is terrifying.

It truly doesn't make me eager to offer my services. Had you asked me back at the beginning of sixth year, I would've jumped at the opportunity to lead the Mudblood on into a false sense of loyalty, only to betray her. I would've gladly put my life in jeopardy, because I was certain that the Lord would never kill his most loyal follower's son.

But now, things are completely different and I'm not eager to help. "Wouldn't it be more productive to wait for the Lord's approval in this," I ask, hoping that he listens.

Father raises an eyebrow. "Perhaps, but it would only delay finding out useful information," he says, not at all touching on the subject that I could very well die.

"True, but it won't do you any good to put me in harms way, in case I can be more useful elsewhere if this idea is not favored." I want to take a large gulp of air, but fear it will reveal my concern on the matter and set my father's temper off.

He is tapping his wand idly on his chin, and action that makes me wonder if he plans to hex me. "You are right," he says at length, and I feel a heavy weight in me leap off. At least I won't be sacrificing my life anytime soon.

Father begins to pace, his hands behind his back. "You know son, before your failure with Dumbledore, our Lord had been speaking to me about making you a high ranking Death Eater." He said this as though its something for me to be proud of. "He was telling me that if you were to prove yourself, he may take you under his wing to learn his secrets."

My stomach is in knots, but father's eyes are gleaming as he speaks. "He sees real potential in you son. I'm certain if you can extract the information from the Granger girl that we need, he may consider teaching you those things again. What an honor to our family it would be."

There he goes again, with that family nonsense. I'm certain all my ancestors are already rolling in their graves for the cowardness I showed repeatedly both when faced with Dumbledore and every time I see a corpse.

But father's newest rant is not yet over. "He has considered teaching Theodore Nott you know Draco, a Nott of all people! I believe he told me this simply to show me how many other families can easily replace us, but we can't let that happen! So if this plan is taken well, then you had better deliver my son. I will not see you fail our Lord so blatantly again." He is glaring me down now, but I don't shrink under the intensity of his stare. That is a look I have been receiving since I could walk.

"Of course," I drawl, biting down my irritation. It's not like I want any of this! What I could use at the moment is a hot shower, and that is up in my rooms. If I please father enough with my animated answers, I may escape quicker to that hot bliss. Perhaps it would calm my nerves for the impending task ahead.

He nods, seeming to be at least satisfied with that answer. "Be in your rooms by no later than nine tonight Draco. There will be a small gathering of Death Eater's here, and you are still banned. You cannot be caught out of your rooms. And if you are," he continued, taking a menacing step towards me that I simply could not back away from because of my damned Malfoy pride, "then the consequences will be severe."

"I understand. I have no desire to be wandering this place anyways," I say tersely, hoping this conversation is nearly over.

Lucius seems torn between scolding me for my terse comment and ending this conversation, but thankfully he chooses the latter. "Off with you then. I have other arrangements you know."

Without a goodbye, I turn and leave the room, a multitude of emotions swirling inside of me. I can't quite yet decide which emotion is dominate, just that I want that shower now more than before. At the end of the hall, I nearly crash into my mother.

"Oh, Draco dear," she says, looking at me with concerned eyes. There is terror there, and I can only assume it has to do with what father just spoke with me about. My parents seem to tell each other things still, even if every last one of them is centered around me. Father would of course speak of a way to drop me back into the Lord's favor. "Are you quite alright?"

"Fine," I say crossly, in no mood to talk to my terribly unfortunate mother. I'm sure this is not the life she pictured when she married Lucius, whom I barely register as he brushes past us. "A bit tired. I was on my way to my rooms actually."

"Now? But you will be up there all night long."

"I am aware," I say, folding my arms across my chest. Vaguely, I wonder if any of the Death Eater's will attempt to kill Granger, but quickly shake the thought from my head. "But really, is there anything else to do in this place?" I try not to sound bitter, but I am. Ever since Voldemort made this place his... headquarters? Checkpoint? Whatever it is, it's taken away any and all activates I could do here.

"I know son," she says, and I can see the pain etched in her face. It hurts her that our home has become my prison just as much as hers and I immediately regret my short, curt replies to her. She is not who I am irritated with, after all.

A shark cry breaks through our conversation, and I clamp my eyes shut in recognition. With barely a, 'I have to go mother', I turn and rush away. Those are the cries I am too familiar with, and I can only hope the water from a shower will drown them out.

Now what is he doing to Granger?


	6. Chapter 5 H

**Disclaimer: **All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea. Thanks to my new beta **Tessa Cresswell **as of 7/23/2012!

**bambi: **Yes, it does...

My body is in better shape than I can remember since I became imprisoned here. I can only speculate where Malfoy learned such brilliant healing spells. That's not to say that I feel I can stand or anything; just that I can breathe evenly now.

I don't want to consider what one of his relatives will do if they realize I've had the benefit of real healing, because no matter who did it I will be punished as well. That thought has me shaking a bit. I cannot even believe I'm hidden in a dank cell, _quivering_, at the idea of seeing one of Malfoy's relatives! Not so long ago I would've taken any one of them on in a fight, but now I'm allowing his father to ruthlessly beat me when he so pleases. But really, what can I do? I can't see anything, and I can't hear magic until it hits me. Unless I can strike Lucius and get him to the ground I have no means of escape. And even then someone outside would probably capture me.

The stone floor is slick with something, but the smell is mixed with all the other liquids in this room and I dare not speculate what it really is. I just lay there in the mess of this place.

A small part of me misses the presence of Malfoy; it cut through the never-ending silence; the silence that will eventually drive me mad if I cannot get out of here.

The chamber door opens and I nearly say 'Malfoy', but catch myself. If it is anyone else and they hear me sounding grateful for the blond boy, it will not end well. The tapping of a cane on the hard stone floor tells me otherwise and I feel my heart clench.

"I have a deal for you Mudblood," Lucius hisses, wandering nearby. I want to knock that damn cane from his hands, but I have tried that once before and he nearly skewered me. Not something I will be trying again until my options are gone.

Instead of replying, I hiss and roll away, hoping he will attack my back this time and ignore my front. To my great displeasure, the handle of the cane hooks over my arm and flips me back onto my back. A moment later he has hit me in the side of the face with it.

"Disrespectful girl," he growls, hitting my shoulder as well. I wince but don't scream. "If you would only listen, perhaps you could find this to your benefit."

I don't change my facial expression, but he continues on. "My Lord will be stopping by here in a fortnight to see you Mudblood. I expect you to answer every question asked, instead of trying to ignore him. He will never be as forgiving as I am."

_Forgiving? This is forgiving!_

"My son will be collecting you in three days time and you will stay in his chambers," the blond continued, breaking my collarbone now. I cave and screamed in pain, barely registering what he was saying. _Did he say I'm leaving this place soon?_

"Don't start thinking this is a luxury, Mudblood," he growled, dragging his cane down my body. It makes me feel like his eyes are lingering, despite not being able to see them. I don't want to know what he is thinking. "It's a necessity, and you will not be touching anything in his rooms. I would never allow this, but you cannot be left down here after the party tonight, can you?"

The cane comes back up and digs into my neck. If my knee wasn't broken- and in intense pain- I would kick him. "My Lord would be very displeased if he knew you had been killed by one of his followers. I may leave you here for their enjoyment tonight, but you will not remain."

He presses further on my neck, and it becomes hard to breathe. Choking, I begin to claw at it, and he only laughs. "You get so worried Mudblood, when I cannot kill you yet. You still have value to the Lord, and it's only after your use is gone that I will end you."

The pressure on my neck releases and I cough, wondering where he could possibly be going with this. Wouldn't it end up being a luxury anyways if I can leave this place? Besides, Malfoy doesn't seem keen on hurting me, so I'll be alright up there... I hope.

He growls suddenly and there's barely a few seconds in between before a curse hits me hard and I scream. Merlin, it _hurts_. What did I do now? Exist ?

"Filthy Mudblood," he says, as I whither from the spell. It's so close to Crucio, but I know its not, because it mentally hurts too.

_Make it stop make it stop make it stop make it stop make it stop make it stop make it stop... _I'm screaming, but I can't help it. The pain is just too intense.

At length, he lets up and I intake as much air as I can in shuddery, uneven breaths. He is storming around the chamber, cursing. "How did you persuade my elves Mudblood?" A spell hits me and I scream. "How? Which elf helped you?" Another curse, another scream.

I shake my head and scramble away the best I can, my body in so much pain. My broken knee screams as I move back against the wall, quivering. I wish he had brought Malfoy with him; he made it better last time. Why oh why couldn't he follow again?

The older Malfoy is saying something to me now, and I try to zone in on what it is. "...but not yet. He will retrieve you in three days time, no later. Do not expect this to be a kind visit Mudblood; he is only watching you until the Dark Lord arrives. I am certain he can extract the information from you when he arrives."

I don't even shudder at the mention of Voldemort. After spending so much time being passed between Lucius, Bellatrix and her husband, I am so used to the torment and the screwed up faces as they snarl or smirk or glare down at me when I don't answer questions. A swift kick at my ribs has me groaning.

"You filthy bitch," he continued grabbing my hands and hauling me to my knees. My mind kicks into overdrive, and I wonder what he could possibly do to me now. A thick cloth is pulled around my mouth, which I guess is to mumble my screams. It would be entirely useless to 'cover' my eyes, after all.

He has my back forced into the wall now, my legs not supporting me well. I slump against the cold stone and receive a slap for it. "Stand up," he hisses.

I try my best to, but all efforts to get anywhere are banished as he rips open my shirt with his hands, magically tearing my bra as well. I begin to hit blindly out, hoping to strike him. A quick sticking spell has my arms above my head and I begin to sob. What the hell is he planning to do to me?

Just like the first night, my assumptions of what his plan is prove wrong. Instead of grabbing me, a sharp hit has me screaming again. I have no idea what he is using, just that its possibly his cane with a sharpened end. Or maybe something else entirely.

The second slash across my upper body has me screaming louder, the cloth muffling my screams. I can only wonder why it is so important now. Six more slashes and my head is spinning; I know I must be losing a lot of blood.

Hands on my shoulders grasp me, and I'm flipped so the inflamed skin is flush against the wall, fire running up my body at the contact. His voice is now in my ear. "Where is the Order's base?"

So he is finding new ways of mentally destroying me for information. "I don't know," I gasp between sobs, mentally trying to decide if I have any chance of kicking him high enough to cause damage.

His hand on my head smashes my skull into the wall. It causes a headache, but I cannot see any of the dots that should be there. "Stop lying Mudblood. You know more than you let on." His breath is hot on my ear, and I note that he is too close for comfort, pressing me into the wall."

Mustering up my courage, I say something that would almost make someone believe I never turned into a coward. "I thought your dear _Lord _was supposed to get the information from me."

I'm thrown on the floor, and the cloth is ripped away. Something long is jabbing my cheek, and I panic before realizing it is his cane. Choking on the blood that is gathering in my mouth from being thrown, I try to roll on my side, until I feel something remarkably similar to a foot on the other side of my head.

"You're right Mudblood, I'm wasting my time on you. I will just let our guests tonight deal with you." The barriers on either side of my head move, and I roll to the side, spitting up blood. I hear him pick something off the floor, and figured it had to be my shirt. Remembering that my chest is bare, I wrap my arms around myself, hoping to hide my body. It's disturbing enough that he tore it off.

A chuckle sends chills down my body. "Don't worry Mudblood, no one wants to see that." A piece of fabric floats down onto my stomach and I reach blindly for it, missing once. He chuckles again. "I will be back in a few hours for you." With those chilling words, his footsteps carry away from me, and I hear the door open and slam closed.

The moment I am certain he is gone, I feel the tears rushing from my face. Several of those instances with him just then were very uncomfortable, and brought flashes of the first night through my mind. He may not have raped me but he certainly made his torture ideas as painful as possible. Curling up, the cloth smashed against my breasts, I feel the tears begin to trickle down my cheeks.

How on earth is moving me up to Malfoy's room going to be worse than this? Will he be required to keep me locked away in a cage in the corner and allow his father to beat me? Will I be stuck as some sort of slave or locked away in a closet? I figure so long as I do not have to see his father Lucius, it will be heaven.

Then again, I will have to deal with his 'guests' tonight, so I may not even live that long. If Bellatrix, Rodolphus and Lucius all come in here at once, even without their _friends_, then I'm certain I will be dead before they leave.

A small part of me wants Malfoy to be here too. He stepped in the way of his father's fury last time, perhaps he would help me out again? I can hardly think of a reason for Malfoy to care enough to get between me and his relatives, except that he is weak on the inside and has never been very brave. The very idea of bloodshed must turn his stomach.

Considering everything on me that is currently screaming, I'm surprised he can stand to look at me. I must be a total wreck. Reaching up, I scramble to tear the fabric away from my mouth, gasping for air between my growing sobs. I force myself into a sitting position, the very movement causing my bones to feel like they are being broken, and use the slightly long piece of fabric to tie around my naked chest, finding it is barely long enough to reach, and covers next to nothing. I shudder now. Being exposed is something I severely dislike.

Crawling, I move myself against one of the walls, and I'm not even sure which one. I sit back against it and force myself to stop crying. Not only am I unwilling to let the others see my tears, but I have no water to rehydrate myself. Crying simply won't do.

But now that I am against this wall, I have to figure out a way to stop the bleeding.


	7. Chapter 6 D

**Disclaimer: **All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea. Thanks to my new beta for this story **Tessa Cresswell** who has gone through and edited all the chapters to date! 7/23/2012. Enjoy :)

**A/n: **Keep letting me know what you think! I got a job though, so updates are a bit harder to do, but I will keep up as much as possible lovelies! At least one update a week, give or take a day or two. Maybe two if my schedule is good.

* * *

I'm heading up to my rooms. Father's charming dinner guests have arrived to speak of matters only concerning war, bloodshed, torture and Voldemort. It makes me sick! I am quite thankful that my evening will be spent elsewhere.

Of course, thoughts of Granger keep entering my mind. Will she be okay? And what the fuck did my father do earlier to earn those screams? The thing that really scares me though is that he came back up with a shredded piece of cloth. If they have been violating her I swear I will be sick. That is just too twisted.

Rounding a corner I hear a familiar, shrill voice enter my ears and I wonder why I didn't walk faster. "Draco! Where do you think you are going?"

Grumbling quietly, I turn around to face my aunt Bella, whose hair is in utter disarray as usual, black curls all over. Her clothes are dirty, and I can only assume that she has just returned from some sort of mission for the oh so important Lord.

Bella is one of the Death Eater's I cannot stand. She worships Voldemort like he is some amazing being, kissing his feet and often letting him use her. And her husband allows it! I have never once heard Rodolphus say anything to the powerful wizard about what he does to her. I assume that would be because he is so 'powerful'.

"To my rooms," I say, holding her intimidating gaze. I have known this woman for a long time, and refuse to quiver beneath that look. She rarely curses me, after all. "Father said I was not welcome to this fathering." Try as I may, I can't force venom into my voice. I could really care less.

She frowns. "Nonsense; you will be doing the Lord a great favor soon. I insist that you come with us to see your assignment."

_Lucky me. _Instead of replying, I nod tightly and follow her down the stairs, her favorite boots clipping on the floor. As we descend the stairs I notice there are not nearly as any people as I expected; Nott Senior and his son Theo, Parkinson and his daughter, both Zabini's and Blaise, Bella's husband and Lucius. Are we really all needed to go see Granger?

My father turns and glares when he spots me. "Draco, I told you to-"

"Lucius," Bella cuts in, eyes wide, "he should come with Rodolphus and I, to see the girl. You can explain to the others what is going on, but don't you think it's better we attempt to speak with the girl first before hexing? You never know, she may let something slip to him."

That sounds an awful lot like what father had been drilling into me earlier. He nods once, barely glancing at me. "If you deem it a wise choice."

"But of course," she replies, taking her husbands hand. I slowly follow behind the demented couple, glancing over at Blaise and Pansy. Zabini looks bothered that he is here at all, but Pansy looks afraid now that she is the only girl and scoots closer to my best mate. Strange behavior that is...

A part of me believes Bella knows our dungeons better then we do, for she spends an awful lot of time down here whenever she is at the Manor. Being so close to the Dark Lord, she is often the one sent to interrogate prisoners. I am surprised that her husband is along with us this time. She leads us to the correct prison door immediately.

Her words still ring in my head as the door opens; _You never know, she may let something slip to him._ That worried me. If Bella knew about my father's idea already, then I was in serious danger. If something ever happens to Bella to make Voldemort look at her badly, she immediately uses whatever information she currently knows and spits it out, typically taking the heat off of her and getting someone else seriously injured or even killed. I certainly hope father has kept his lips pressed tight about this.

Walking into the cell, I notice that Rodolphus has taken up a post on the opposite side of the room from Bellatrix, further away from her. Bella's wand is lit, and as the door shuts I feel my lunch trying to make its way back up my throat.

Father tore her apart; and not only that, that girl is practically topless, and bleeding a lot. I fear she may just be dead.

Bellatrix waves her wand, and it begins to stitch uneven, crude stitches up her torn flesh, locking in what little blood she has left. Pulling a bottle from her pocket, she shoves it into Granger's mouth. Instantly, Granger tries to resist and push back, but Bella locks her other hand on her nose, pressing the girl into the floor so she is forced to take the liquid, some escaping through the sides of her mouth as she chokes. Pulling back once the bottle is empty, Granger rolls over and coughs, spitting up part of the potion she just attempted to swallow.

_Well, she's not dead at least. _I still can't stomach how she looks, and turn my head away.

"I see Lucius had fun earlier," she commented, examining the girl. I look back and wonder exactly what kind of fun she means. The girl's bottoms are still in tact- well, as 'in tact' as they were before- so I don't think its anything invasive. But, he definitely beat on her either way.

Rodolphus chuckles from his corner. "It seems if he had stayed any longer he may have too much fun with her."

Bella scowls at him. "Don't even speak of that love. It would be inappropriate to tarnish himself with her body. Lucius is smarter then that." Pausing, she glances over at me. "And I hope you do as well. She did go to school with you after all."

My stomach constricts. "It's not as though we ever spoke or anything," I reply dismissively.

The woman in front of me shrugs, and is suddenly yanking Granger up by her hair. She scrambles to keep the thin piece of fabric in place, for it seems to have come undone. The raven-haired woman drags her over to be right in front of me, Hermione's dead eyes looking elsewhere... if they can 'look' at all. She's quietly whimpering.

"It doesn't bother you to see her this way, just a bit?" Bella taunts, shoving her against me. Her face contacts my stomach and she snaps it to the side, probably completely unaware of who I really am. "So broken and filthy?" At this, she chuckles. "Well, filthier."

I swallow. Merlin, I hope all she does is taunt me. I don't think I could ever curse her in such a state. "Why would it? She's only a Mudblood."

At the sound of my voice, her head whips up in recognition. A hand clamps around my lower legs and I can feel her shaking. I try to ignore her.

Bella tilts her head. "Perhaps, but Lucius tells me you try to keep the abuse to a minimum." Suddenly, she has Granger smashed hard into me. "But we are going to change that."

Ripping her back, Bella shoves her to the floor. The cloth shifts position and I advert my eyes, noticing in the light that Rodolphus does not even bother. Perhaps that is how their marriage thrives; they cheat on each other.

He steps forwards now, wand drawn, and wordlessly hexes her. She screams in pain, hands falling away from covering herself as she curls into a ball, her cries ringing in my ears. Only a few seconds later, the spell seems to stop and her loud cries turn into sobs.

"See Draco," Bella indicated, nodding to the witch on the ground, ears bleeding, "we're going to change that. You will watch us hurt her, so you do not try to help her at a later time. I should Crucio you for doing that in the first place." Apparently, the idea is not dominate, for she just turns her attention back to Granger after that horrible comment.

Her husband shoves Granger onto her stomach with his foot, revealing once smooth skin that is now littered with scars. It's sick, but at least I can keep my food down at the sight. He whispers a spell, and a large slash rips down her back, blood jumping out at the intrusion.

_They must've forced her to take a blood-replenishing potion if they are causing her to lose so much again. I wonder if the only reason we are down here is to teach me to not aid her..._

It continues for a few minutes, with Rodolphus slashing her occasionally and Bella Crucio-ing her, causing the girl to whither in pain. I chew on my lip to keep from saying something. This is certainly not a fight I want to enter into.

Finally, my uncle turns to me. "I'm sure your father has told you what we need to know from the girl. We will leave you alone for several minutes to see if you can figure anything out, but do not dare help her, or it will mean more pain for you." With that, the pair depart and leave me in a cell with a blind girl and a blood-covered floor.

Now I understand; they brought me down her as some sort of punishment for helping her before, and made me watch something everyone knows I can't stand, just to leave me with a defeated girl who may or may not answer my questions.

She has not scurried away or begged for them to stop this entire time. That's a bit concerning. Swallowing hard, I walk over and gently nudge her shoulder with my foot. She twitches and moans, but says nothing.

"Granger," I say softly, hoping she will respond. I have no idea how long they will be gone. "Are you alright?"

Her head whips around in my general direction. Yeah, that probably wasn't the right thing to say...

Her small, bloody hand finds first my shoe then my leg. I create a box to sit on and she uses my lower leg to drag herself up into a sitting position, her chest exposed. I again remove my eyes, but she's already attempting to cover herself.

"Granger, look... I-"

"Don't worry about it Malfoy," she says quietly. "I am not deaf; I could hear everything they were saying. You don't have to say anything," she finishes, slumping against my knee. The silence following is highly uncomfortable.

She isn't hiding or sobbing loudly today or questioning me, she is just leaning against my leg. I know in a moment I will have to shove her off and stand- pretend to be the bastard I'm expected to be.

"I'm sorry for this Granger," I mumble, not looking at her. I hate feeling pity for her, but her treatment is less then human. "I have to stand back up."

Instead of replying, she shoves away and shuffles into a corner, seeming defeated. Her hands wrap around her knees and she buries her head into them, softly crying. I'm thankful I lit my wand, but remove the box moments before Bella and Rodolphus return.

I immediately notice Bella seems pleased with the way things are situated. Glancing down at my ruined trousers, she frowns. "What happened there?"

I know she expects some arrogant, bastardly reply, so I throw on my best scowl, hoping its convincing. "She thought I may help her again, and clawed at my trousers. I kicked her and she scurried over there. The girl revealed nothing about the Order."

Bella grimaces, but doesn't seem to notice the lie in my words. Instead, she sneers at Granger. "No worries dearie, we will be speaking alone again very soon. Draco, I'm glad to hear you at least have not gone soft, but go and throw those tarnished trousers out before it seeps through and infects you."

That's probably the silliest thing I have ever heard, but if she is excusing me then I am more then willing. "Of course," I say, before sliding out and making my way to the stairs, thankful to hear both of them following behind me.

At the sitting room, Pansy stops me. "Is she... dead," she asks, eyes wide.

I frown. So now everyone knows she is here. "No," I reply curtly, trying to move past. "Why do you ask," I continue, when she is still in the way.

Biting her lip, she indicates with her head to glance over her shoulder and I do, just as Blaise steps beside us. The sight really makes the bile rise in my throat.

There's a body on the tile floor, crumbled with its neck twisted too far. The dirty brown hair and complexion instantly reminds me of some girl from school; Hannah Abbot, who had been in my year. Yes, it's her, and she's lying dead on my floor.

Pansy's eyes are wide. "Nott was allowed to kill her when she wouldn't give up information. I hope the same doesn't happen to Granger."

I frown again. "Why do you care?"

Her lips thin, but its Blaise who speaks. "It's not like we like any of this anymore then you do."

I nod, but depart quickly, headed up to my room. Once there, I empty my stomach and hope that's all I have to deal with tonight.


	8. Chapter 7 H

**Disclaimer: **All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea. Thanks to my new beta **Tessa Cresswell **as of 7/23/2012!

**A/n: **Keep letting me know your thoughts :) Thanks for all your reviews!

* * *

I have no idea how long it has been- at least longer than a day because my water was filled earlier and Lucius came down once to beat me- since Malfoy was here. I still don't know what they expect me to say, nor do I care. As long as they stay far away from me, away from me with their hits and their punches and their horrid spells, I could be content to die here.

I know I've lost my mind, lost myself, but I don't care; I want out of here.

For that matter, where has Malfoy been? His chilling words from before and his father's message still ring in my head. What am I supposed to think? I lay here for a while on the frigid stone floor, top in disarray because I do not fear an empty darkness, until a small elfin voice interrupts my thoughts.

"Master Draco will be coming to collect you soon to escort you upstairs." The voice is unfamiliar and I struggle to construct a picture of what this elf may look like, but I come up with nothing. Nodding in the darkness, he responds, "You have not got longer in this place Miss. He will take care of you." I hear the sharp snap as the elf apparates away, and drop my head back onto the hard floor. I'm surprised he saw me at all.

What did he mean by Malfoy taking care of me? I shudder to consider what that may mean and scramble for my scarf-top, hardly noticing when I cut my wrist on something sharp until the warm blood drips down onto my thigh.

* * *

I awaken later to the sound of the door opening, and in my hurry to get away from whoever is entering the shirt slips off my body, falling onto the ground. My breath hitches, hoping against hope that it is not Lucius here. I hear footsteps approaching me but they stop a bit away.

Someone clears their throat, and moments later the cloth is thrust into one of my hands. Surprised, I don't do anything for a moment, caught completely off-guard. Then I reach a hand up tentatively and brush fine locks of hair, a sharp nose and an upper lip. This is different; this is strange. I have not done this to anyone yet in my blind state, and I have absolutely no idea why I am attempting to do it now.

A hand softly stops my trailing one and moves it from the face. I'm already certain who this is, simply because of his gentle actions, but the voice confirms it. "Granger, please, tie that back on. I'll find you anything you want upstairs but please don't expect to go upstairs topless."

I feel my cheeks burn and clumsily search for the cloth. Finding it, after having dropped it while feeling Malfoy's face, I tie it on as quick as I can, making sure it covers as much as possible. Once I'm finished, I clasp my hands and wait in fear for what he has to say next. My body is still in so much pain from the other day, and I only hope this is not a warning before more pain hits.

"I didn't know you would be coming to my room," he grumbles, and it takes a moment to register. _Ah yes, Lucius had mentioned this a while back. So that is why he is here? To collect me?_

"Sorry," I mutter in return, not sure what to say to that. Is he mad that I'll be invading his room? _'It's alright to help me here where I belong, but getting into his private life is too much'. _I can imagine the annoyance in his head now, and wonder why he would be going through with it at all.

I hear a scoff and look in the general direction. "This isn't your fault Granger, so don't start acting like it is. This is my father's idea," he continues, and I hear him stepping towards me again. What does that mean?

He stops right in front of me, and everything pauses. I wonder why he has gotten so close and done nothing. A moment passes before I feel him grip my hand and flinch. _Great, he still as a problem touching me even a bit. _

The next movement startles me. He pulls me to my feet and I stumble against him, having been unprepared for the movement; I haven't walked since the first time Lucius Malfoy started beating me either. As soon as all my weight is set on the ground I whimper and grip his body, the pain in my legs roaring to life now that they have to support me. After having been on the ground for so long, they feel like jelly; they could collapse from under me at any moment.

He grunts. "Granger," he says, shoving me back from his body so I'm held out at some distance from him, "what are you doing? There's no way I'm supporting you up those fucking stairs- my father could see! Stand up- I'll guide you but that's the best you get."

I sneer a bit and back up, leaning against the wall; it's a habit I learned to adapt to recently. The look apparently disgusts his father, so perhaps it will work with him as well. The blond is telling me to walk when my knee is broken? No way!

"Can't walk Malfoy," I hiss, shaking one of my legs- the one with a ruined knee. I'm sure he must have a light on to see it. "You can thank your father for that."

"Yes well, I will," he grumbles, apparently in a predicament now. If he isn't supposed to aid me, then he is probably going to receive a punishment if he does. But, it mustn't look pretty and he can't expect me to walk on it. "It looks bad," he continues, and I smile as my prediction comes true. "I can't heal this with a spell. I'm going to need some blood replenishing potion, and that's up in my rooms. There is no way I'm putting myself at risk to bring you some Granger, you're going to have to hobble until we get upstairs."

I frown. Typical cowardly Malfoy, afraid to do something that will cause him harm. I should've known. Crossing my arms I attempt to glare. If he can be stubborn so shall I. I am not currently at the mercy of someone, and Malfoy simply doesn't have the will to beat me; I will not stand down- or maybe that's just the mental state talking?

I hear him sigh and grab my arm- on the side with my bad knee. "I shouldn't even be offering this much, but I can't have you screaming in pain the entire way. Look, I'll do a numbing spell that should last until we get up there, alright? Will you stop frowning Granger?"

Here we go again, with that pitying sound in his voice. "Fine, but only if you help me you git," I snap, slowly leaning onto my leg. I practically buckle under the pressure but he catches me, cursing.

"This will be harder than I thought," he grumbles, throwing one of my arms around him. The action is completely unexpected, but a second later I hear him mumbling a spell and the pain decreases quite a bit. I'm still not quite sure though that this will do me any good; if my leg is too weak to hold me up it won't really matter that I can't feel the pain; I may have lost my mind a bit, but I'm still smart enough to know that.

"We're walking now Granger," he directs, moving so his lower arm is grasping mine in a feeble attempt to help me. This is never going to work. I place my weight back on the ruined leg and find that I can at least remain standing now that the pain is gone- I'm just wobbly.

Malfoy's grip on my arm begins to pull away, and I realize he must be walking. I wrap my hand around his wrist, and take a step, noting that I shake when my hurt leg is left to support me alone. Another uncertain step and I find that the other leg is completely fine with this.

I have no idea when we actually leave the cell or even enter the hallway, because Malfoy took a turn in the cell to avoid some bloodspot that he cursed about. He seems to have now forgotten that I can't walk as fast as him, and I'm practically dragging behind him now. Clearing my throat, he seems to notice his mistake and slows down. Walking is uneven but seemingly productive from there.

He pauses at some point, and I bump into him a bit. I cannot tell if he glances back at me or not. "We have to climb some stairs Granger," he says quietly. "There's a Death Eater at the top- I do not know if he will be a problem or not, because I have never really dealt with him- but you'll have to do the stairs yourself. If someone thinks I am being too nice to you, I may become a bit crude with how I guide you upstairs. Just go along with it- please."

I nod mutely. Joy, he may be hurting me upstairs. That makes me feel safe with him; not only that, but stairs could prove difficult with my weak leg. I should be able to figure out the length of the stairs fairly quickly, but I'm not sure how my body will fair. The upper half is still in a decent amount of pain.

He moves forward and I follow, before his voice pierces the darkness. "Step up." I do as he says, and he repeats the phrase. Two more times and I have it on my own- if not rather unbalanced. His grip has tightened quite a bit now to try and force me to stay upright. Twelve more steps and I feel even ground again. It wasn't as difficult as I thought.

"That her?" someone says, and I swivel my head before picking a place that this male probably is. Malfoy's house seems to echo a lot, and picking out where the voice came from is quite difficult.

"Yes," Malfoy says curtly. There's a moments pause, and I feel unsettled. I cannot say way, but the feeling of being watched sets in and unnerves me.

"Pretty one," he says, much closer now, and I feel his hand lock on my jaw. I pull my head back, uncomfortable with his behavior. He reminds me of how Bellatrix's husband acts around me. I hear him snarl, and the next moment a semi-hard slap meets my cheek. I stumble a bit from the force throwing my already terrible balance, but Malfoy's firm hold keeps me from toppling. "A little disrespectful," he continues, his voice moving slightly away.

"Perhaps," the blond beside me drawls, "but it is really none of your concern. And I would prefer Jackson if you reframed from abusing my charge; it gives myself and my father more of a reason to have you killed."

Silence follows, and I cannot figure out what exactly he means, just that it sounds like Malfoy has some sort of control. There is no answer, but the soft sliding of a chair as its owner sits back down enters my ears, and then Malfoy is dragging me off.

We don't speak again for a while, although I do run once into a cabinet and twice trip over a bit of raised ground. This Jackson character is the only one we have encountered thus far. Malfoy rounds a corner and I follow, before being propelled back into a wall.

"What are you doing," someone cries. It's a female voice I barely recognize. The pain is exploding in my body again, and I slam my eyes shut. _This doesn't sound good. _Suppressing a cry, I listen for Malfoy's response.

"Mother," he growls, "I am _supposed _to be bringing her upstairs!"

* * *

**A/n: **Review?


	9. Chapter 8 D

**Disclaimer:**All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea. Thanks to my new beta **Tessa Cresswell** as of 7/23/2012! Oh, I'm American so it's probably 23/7/2012... I think?

**A/n:**Tada another chapter! The next one will be out in a few days; less then a week.

* * *

I really wanted to hex my mother just then. Could she make more of a scene? Obviously she doesn't know that I am bringing Granger up here, but with the way she has been screaming every Death Eater in the house is going to come and look, and this is _supposed _to be a secret. I can't just be ambushed by angry Voldemort followers for listening to my damn father. Then Granger would certainly end up dead.

This is the first time I have seen Granger in almost a day and a half. I had other things to attend to yesterday, and when father told me this morning that I would be dragging her from the cellars to my private quarters it really ruined my morning. Did I want a blind, helpless, crazy Gryffindor living someplace in my room? No! Living arrangements were left up to me, and I'm to do whatever I can to abstract information from her. The problem is I doubt I will get anything at all.

The only rule is it has to look like I've been punishing her when the Dark Lord arrives. Father didn't have to say that though; it's a given, and I'm not quite sure what will happen to her when they finally meet. She stood for everything he hated, no matter her current state, and it would do her no good to be difficult and tell me nothing before he arrived.

That's twelve days away.

She's behind me now against the wall, that fucking piece of fabric probably offset again. To anyone who may find us, this situation would look rather odd; I should not be standing off against my mother in front of the Mudblood.

"What do you mean," mother asks skeptically. Narcissa has her wand drawn, ready to remove the girl for me, but that can't happen.

"I'm escorting her upstairs," I say in a low voice, in case bystanders are present.

"Well why would you do that," she asks, giving me an odd look. Her eyes glance between Granger and I before she continues. "Draco, if your father sees you up here with her it won't end well. Let me take her back downstairs."

I shake my head, hoping to finish this conversation soon. I'm tired of running into people. "I'm supposed to have her up here; I was asked," I said, refusing to say a name. I would not get mother in trouble with father, and I didn't really want to face him for blatantly stating something secret in an insecure hallway. I look into her eyes, hoping she understands that I cannot talk further here. "May I continue on?"

I can see the gears in mother's mind as she contemplates whether that is really a smart idea. After a moment, she drops her wand and nods. "Well hurry then, before everyone sees."

Glad to hear that she's agreeing to at least drop the conversation for now, I nod once and turn, grabbing Granger's forearm and yank her from the wall; her own fingers scramble to adjust the garment, which for once is actually doing it's job and staying put. Passing mother, I ignore her eyes; I don't want to see the confused, questioning look there yet. That's something I can deal with later when I am not dragging someone blind through my home and who still doesn't really know how to function.

We make it roughly another twenty feet before she trips again. I ignore her rushed apology, thinking how much easier it would be to simply levitate her upstairs, but if someone were to see that it would be terrible. No, I'm stuck following this endless trek instead.

A couple feet ahead, I hear voices and lean towards Granger a bit. "Don't make any unnecessary noise now Granger," I hiss, remembering father's threat earlier about what could happen to me if I interrupted the current meeting; I had been instructed to get her up here at this time, when most everyone would be in there, simply so no one would see me with the Mudblood. We pass the room easily enough, and continue on. Five minutes later, we reach the staircase leading up to my wing.

I glance around. It is rare for anyone to be near my wing, unless they are coming looking for me, so it's probably safe to just move her the rest of the way to my rooms myself; I'm sick of walking. Tapping my wand, I whisper the spell to levitate her and she screams.

"Shh," I hiss, removing the spell immediately. "Shut up Granger! Do you want us to get caught?" I continue, grabbing her arm tightly. She shakes her head, eyes closed, and I look around. No one seems to have come, so hopefully father just put a silencing spell on the room so no one would hear us. "I'm going to levitate you upstairs Granger- so try not to scream too loudly this time."

Granger nods, but I notice her hands clench. So she's unsettled by the idea of being levitated to my rooms? So what? I'm tired, and she can deal for the short way there; this will be a lot faster. Saying the spell again, she begins to float and I instruct her to sit and find a comfortable position. After a moment of adjusting, she is sitting with her legs crossed, one hand making sure that pathetic piece of cloth stays in place. With a roll of my eyes, I move us upstairs.

The process takes under three minutes, and I have us inside my room. Setting Granger down, I shut the door and make sure it has every locking spell on it I know; I've gotten good at those. Turning back, I arch an eyebrow.

She's wiggling her bare, dirty feet in the dark carpet. My floor is black, the walls white and the bed forest green. Everything else is black furniture or some type of poster, but she can't see that. And even if she could, she seems too preoccupied with my floor. Standing there by my door, I take advantage of the real lighting and see just how awful she is.

I was right before- there will need to be some blood replenishing potions. She's way too skinny, and the wounds are downright disgusting to look at. It looks like she should be screaming for moving her toes- it looks that awful. But then, she's caked in grime. I wonder what would happen if I told the girl to bathe. Either father would be furious or she would slip trying to get out without eyes. Still, it's useless to try and bandage and heal anything if it will only become dirty again from the grime on her skin.

I open my mouth to tell her she must take a bath, but the girl extends her hands and begins to walk forwards- away from me. I cross my arms and scowl, watching her take a few shaky steps and feel along the back of my sofa, fingers caressing the soft fabric. Which reminds me- that shirt is about to fall off her body. With a roll of my eyes, I walk over to the closet to find an old shirt for her to cover herself with.

Everything I have is far too large, so I settle for an old shirt that is the closest thing to her size I can find. I have nothing to replace her trousers, and that's probably better, for father will probably have a fit that I'm covering her. Prisoners are treated worse than the house elves when it comes to clothing, but I'm not watching a half-naked Granger parade around my room. That would be weird.

I turn back, and note that she has continued her trek of feeling up my room, and is now finding her way to the bathroom door- all on her bloody own- while feeling for where things are. It's peculiar to watch, but I don't spend a lot of time considering it either. She needs to bathe and put on a proper fucking top.

"Granger," I say, walking towards her, and she jumps as she looks in my general direction, eyes closed. I think they only remain closed because she keeps them that way. "You need to take a bath and put on a shirt." I thrust the garment into her hand, before walking past her into the bathroom. "I'll draw a bath but don't expect-"

"I'm not bathing Malfoy," she says, rubbing her arm. "I can't see, and I don't feel like slipping."

_Oi. _I roll my eyes at her. "You can strip and sit in a bath of water," I say, waving her off. "I will show you how high the counter is beforehand and even put a bloody towel down if you desire. But if you plan on getting those cuts all nice and clear, it's necessary. I bet most of them are infected as it is, so it will hurt but help."

She's biting her lip now, and the action causes some of the tension in my body to evaporate. The action is just so Granger, so _bookworm _Granger, that it reminds me she really is still sane, still herself, someplace in that head. After a moment, she gives me a jerky nod and I grin, patting her shoulder a moment before heading into the bathroom myself.

* * *

It took longer then I had thought to get her in and out, but I never actually had to go in and get her; she was determined to get herself out. But, eventually she stumbled out of the bathroom, and I was even nice enough to touch her hand before she broke the expensive sword sitting on display in my room like some muggle museum. She sat on the couch, and I decide immediately she would have to sleep there, unless she prefers a small chair or the floor. Sitting on the table in front of her, I bring some potions to me by wand along with bandages.

"You don't look quite as filthy Granger," I say, opening a potion and placing it in her hand. She seems unsure whether or not to take it, and brings it to her lips to sniff as I begin to study slashes on her arm, noticing that they bleed a bit. "It's just a blood replenishing potion," I drawl, saying a spell to heal her skin.

It's another moment before she seemingly believes me enough to down the potion, and I'm already examining a cut on her opposite arm. I'm impressed she seemingly got dressed so well. I would've stumbled around without my eyes probably a lot worse than her, but that's not why I am helping her; I don't want blood stains on my furniture.

"You don't have to do this," she says, stopping my hand as I notice the bruise on her neck. She pushes my hand away. "It's probably going to cause more issues if I look decent anyways."

That just sounds like a Granger statement. Is this girl only mental sometimes, or is it all an act? The squirming, pathetic girl who I met half the time I was downstairs is nothing like the girl in front of me right now. How can she act so different around me sometimes, when others she's a mess?

_The other times they are abusing her to no end. _I shake my head of the thought, but it's completely possible it's the truth. She's vaguely comfortable here; at least she isn't attempting to claw me to death and steal my wand. Shaking my head, I whisper a spell that makes the bruise disappear anyways. "Everything is going to cause issues if the Death Eater's downstairs figure out you are up here, so it's not too concerning how decent you look. You're sitting on my couch as it is Mudblood, so you will look nice enough to not ruin the cushions."

She doesn't respond to me, so I decide she must be okay enough for me to at least continue with the dangerous, larger wounds. The blood replenishing potion will be useless if it just leaks out of her body. Two more marks on her legs, and I think I have covered just about everything visible and deadly. The only place left to check would be her mid-section, and I'm certain it will be the most difficult place to get to. I mean really, it's not like Granger enjoys being on display, at least from what I've noticed.

_Why me? _"Granger," I say after a moment, probing her with my wand, "have you any large marks under that shirt?"

She jerks back and her hand flashes out; I narrowly miss her torn nails connecting with my cheek, but the advantage of having eyes is what really saves me. I lean back far enough to avoid her hand but shoot one out myself and keep her leg from kicking me.

"Calm down Granger; I don't mean anything by it. I'm just making sure you don't bleed out the potion I just gave you." She finally stops trying to attack me and goes limp on the couch, eyes closed like before. I wait a moment for her to sit upright again so we can resume talking, but she doesn't. Instead, she curls up on _my_ fucking sofa and sits there quietly.

_Lovely. _"Granger, what do you think you are doing?"

"Go away," she mutters. "Just leave me alone for a while Malfoy."

I throw my hands up. This girl is unbelievable! She has something soft to sleep on, and isn't going to bleed to death or be beaten, but now she is going to curl up before I'm done. I was wrong; Granger doesn't have a sane bone in her body anymore.

I'm about to open my mouth to say something in return, but a familiar voice from the doorway stops me. "I think you've been saying that for years Granger."

She sits up immediately, hands scrambling for something to hold onto, but all I can do is shake my head. Oh, so many headaches.


	10. Chapter 9 H

**Disclaimer:**All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea.

**A/n:**Tada another chapter! Sorry for the delay in updates, I got caught up with work and paperwork, but at least you didn't have to wait longer then a week :) I tried at least. I won't guarantee that the next chapter comes out in a few days, because I'm not sure I'll be able to manage that, but I will try for a week at the latest. Sorry guys, but life is hard right now! Thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**! On with the story!

* * *

_"I think you've been saying that for years Granger."_

"Blaise, what do you want," I hear Malfoy say, and reach out a timid hand. It locks around his wrist for a moment but he shakes me off.

"Funny story," the other voice- apparently Blaise- says, "I saw you two passing by earlier when I went to grab something for Nott's father, and decided to come and investigate. Draco, your father will murder you when he finds out."

"Shut the door," the blond snaps, and again I note the differences in their voices. Currently, 'Blaise' sounds composed, but Malfoy sounds a bit on edge. Actually, did I go to school with Blaise?

A dull thud enters my ears, and a few footsteps have me scrambling back away from the approaching boy. I nearly fall off this blasted couch- which seems to only have one arm- but a hand grabs me and pushes me back onto the furniture. Unsure which boy it was, I hit the hand away and hear an irritated growl. Oh, that was Malfoy.

"So, why do you have Granger up here," the other boy asks, and his footsteps carry away a bit. I hear him stop walking. "Why are her eyes closed?"

_No Malfoy, don't go there. _I can only hope that he doesn't start telling this unknown boy about my problems, when he himself barely knows them. "How the bloody fuck should I know why her eyes are closed? I can't read her mind."

I hear the gentle shuffle of clothing, which could mean he moved or shrugged. "Why do you have her up here? She should be in the cellar; your father will beat her to death for being up here- and then he's going to come after you."

"I know what my father would do," I hear Malfoy snap, "but he wanted me to bring Granger up here so that's what I have done. No one was supposed to see, so I should not have to answer these fucking questions."

There's a short pause. "Did you hit her?"

"Where on earth did you get that idea?" This is my body they are talking about, and I cross my arms tightly over the bleeding area. The blood must've made a mark in the shirt. It's not a ton- nothing compared to the wounds Malfoy has healed, but it's beneath the shirt and neither of those boys will be going under there. I refuse.

A hand gently touches my shoulder and I swat blindly at it as another touches my waist. The first hand moves quickly and I hear Malfoy grumble, but this intruding person must be the Blaise character. I grip his wrist and force him off of me.

"I wouldn't get so near, she hates anyone getting close," Malfoy comments from nearby. The too close man is immediately gone, and I breathe a sigh. No one is touching me.

"I'll be back in a moment Granger," Malfoy says, and I hear the two sets of shoes retreating. The sound of a door closing doesn't really comfort me, but it's better than nothing. Whoever this Blaise person is, I doubt I want to meet him again.

But so long as Malfoy is gone, I may as well check that wound in my stomach. Lifting up the shirt a bit, I fumble to touch the mark, hissing when my fingers make contact. Fuck, had he been using a wand or muggle medical supplies? I doubt it's the latter, and groan. That mean's Malfoy probably just walked out with anything useful. I'm not yet adjusted to being blind, but it would probably take too long to locate anything, so I'll just have to leave the cut be for now. I'm not letting Malfoy that close to me, not after everything.

Using the table in front of me to guide me, I stand and reach my hands out in all directions. Nothing seems to be nearby, so I turn to my left and walk a bit, hands feeling in front of me to make sure I don't hit something. I run into a chair and it pains my hurt body, but I need to figure out where things are; Malfoy as a lot of advantages, what with this being his room and the benefit of, well, sight.

Past the chair there is a lot of space. I decide that this is near either the entrance or the bathroom, and turn to my right this time, still feeling around. I touch a wall, and travel down it- one hand on the wall, one dancing in front of me to see if I'm going to hit something.

Low and behold, I hit something with my hand, and it falls and breaks, the sound piercing my ears. I hiss, now wondering if I'm going to step on glass. Merlin, I need one of those Hoover canes to help me walk. But, that's a muggle invention and unlikely to be anywhere in this house and Malfoy isn't likely to conjure one up either. He would rather I sit still anyways, if you ask me. Carefully stepping back, I miss the glass and keep walking backwards down the wall, before bumping into something heavy that hits the floor this time. Thankfully, this is not breakable and just hits the ground with a thud. Curiosity gets the best of me, and I stoop to inspect.

It's a book that much is certain- I would know one anywhere. Flipping it open, I run my fingers over the pages, and pain hits my chest hard, the reality of everything setting in. If I live through all of this, I'll never be able to read again. That's almost too much, and I lean back against the wall. Reading is a large part of my life, and while it was something I couldn't focus on downstairs in my prison, here it is obvious, feeling the pages of Malfoy's book. That's painful, because reading is something I loved so much, and now it's gone from my life. Shoving the text away, I lift up my knees ignoring the stabbing pain in my stomach, and rest my head on my knees, thoroughly depressed.

Sometime later, the door opens and only one set of footsteps enters my ears. I'm sure it has to be Malfoy, for he seemed annoyed enough with Blaise. The footsteps get close and I pray I am right.

"Granger, get the fuck out of there! What are you doing with my book? How did you break that glass? I thought you were in pain, so why are you wandering around my fucking room?"

A hand grips tightly around my upper arm, and I don't protest as Malfoy drags me someplace in the room. My stomach is in pain and although the depression of never reading is still there, I focus on where he is taking me. I have to know where I am in this room to ever learn to navigate. He shoves me onto what feels like the couch again and I become frantic for a moment, attempting to lash out before realizing he isn't even in front of me anymore. In fact, he is grumbling someplace behind me.

"Don't go wandering around my room Granger, you're just going to break more of my things," he says, his voice getting closer. Not a moment later, something heavy covers me and I scream.

It's snatched back. "Fuck Granger, it's a blanket!"

I knew it was a blanket, but having something strange thrown over my head is scary, even if I know in the back of my head that it's a blanket. It is shoved into my hands, and I'm grateful he didn't throw it on me again.

"Get some sleep, it's late," he says, before his footsteps begin to walk off. I don't respond because I don't have anything to say to him, and instead clutch the blanket to the bleeding spot on my midsection. Malfoy is either highly unobservant or doesn't care to do anything about my wound, and I think it's the latter. It's better that he doesn't care though, since I wouldn't let him help me. Lying down slowly on the couch, I find that I picked correctly and the armrest is in this direction. Making myself as comfortable as possible, I clasp the blanket to my body and close my eyes, the chill in the room nothing compared to downstairs.

* * *

"_I don't know, and I wouldn't tell you if I did!" I spit in his face, but he just uses his hand to hit me. It's only the third time he has done so since dragging me down here, for both he and Bellatrix hate to touch my skin. _

"_Insolent girl," he spat back, eyes livid grey. I hold my ground, daring him to hurt me. He may have my wand, but that doesn't mean I can't try and defend myself. The bloody word in my arm burns, but I ignore it. The fact that I'm currently locked in a small space with two deadly Death Eaters is more of a concern._

_I missed what Lucius Malfoy just said, but the next moment I'm withering in pain on the floor. It's easy enough to figure out what's happened. The pain is beyond anything I have felt in a long time, and cuts off any thoughts I have. All I can focus on is the intense pain rocking through my body._

_The spell lets up and I exhale heavily, having been withholding every scream that tried to escape my mouth. I would never give these two people the pleasure of hearing me scream. No, I'm stronger than that and they will not be breaking me._

"_She's strong for a Mudblood," Bellatrix snaps, coming closer to me, her hair in disarray as usual, "but I think we can fix that, can't we Lucius?"_

_They hit me with spells again and again, looking for my breaking point. It hurts, Merlin everything hurts, but they are going to have to try better then that if they think I'll be giving up something about Harry- which I never will, but it's nice to give them the hope that I might. I would rather they focus their energy here on me in this cell then outside of this Manor, searching for Harry. He needs as many distractions as possible, and although this is an unplanned one it keeps some of the strongest Death Eaters focused on other things. Although I do wish they would ask me questions like the Order and interrogate me in a humane way. This is a nightmare. _

_At some point- and I've lost track of time after so many spells- Lucius snarls. "I've had enough with her Bella. If she won't do this the easy way we can make it hard for her."_

_I vaguely register what he is saying, but the thoughts don't process. All I can focus on is the enormous amounts of pain all over my body. Before I know what's happening, he tears the middle of my already ruined shirt straight down the middle, exposing way too much of me. I panic and my mind goes into overdrive to stop him, but my body is too physically harmed to do anything. Through my slightly blurred vision I see Bella sneering. _

_I want them to explain what's happening, but neither says a word as Lucius leans forwards and presses the burning tip of his wand into my exposed flesh, just below my chest. _

"_Granger," someone says then, and I don't recall that part of the memory. Neither Lucius nor Bella seems to notice, and continue on with what they are doing. "Granger get the fuck up!" _

_I feel the wand moving on my skin like before, and it's then that I realize its Malfoy's voice screaming in my ear._


	11. Chapter 10 D

**Disclaimer:**All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea.

**A/n:**Here's the next update! I feel there may end up being more chapters from Draco's perspective then Hermione's at points, simply because it's hard to write some things from the perspective of someone who just recently lost their vision, you know? So at points there might be multiple chapters from Draco's perspective, and the same with Hermione's, but I'm not sure yet. That was just my warning! Thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

* * *

I have absolutely no idea what's going on. One moment I'm trying to ignore Granger- who had taken up residence on _my_ couch- and the next I am pulled from sleep by her screams. At first I thought perhaps father snuck in and began his… treatment on her, but snapping up in bed I grabbed my wand to illuminate the space, and I realize the bloody girl is having a nightmare. Half of me wants to roll my eyes, but the side of me that acknowledges the things around me shoots the idea down. It's not like she's the only one in this room with things to fear.

Getting out of bed, I wander over to her. She's got the blanket I threw her fisted in her hands, her head whipping back at forth at a speed that looks nothing short of painful. Gripping my wand tightly, I reach out and shake her a bit, hoping the girl will wake from her fears so I can resume my slumber.

It takes a lot of time before I think I have even reached into her subconscious, to the point where I'm violently shaking her. Merlin, why won't this girl wake up? I don't understand how she seemingly doesn't hear me, when I'm practically shouting. Thank Merlin I have that damn silencing spell on my room, else there would be a lot of Death Eaters in here by now.

Her hand juts out and catches my chin, sending my backwards- not from the force, but sheer surprise. What the fuck is she seeing? Fed up with this, I take out my wand and cast a spell on her, hoping the charm would wake her.

It does. She leaps awake, stumbling as she looks around for what has brought her out of her sleep. I smirk, realizing how entertaining an amplifying spell can really be.

"Good to see you awake," I snap, my good humor only around for a moment. Really, this girl was becoming such a burden.

Instead of replying, she nods and presses a hand into a spot on her midsection, something I find rather odd. _Perhaps there is another wound she didn't let you heal. _I watch the girl lean forwards, hands apparently searching for the couch, which she soon finds and steadily lowers herself onto, one hand coming up to clutch that same spot. I frown, thinking there must really be something wrong there. But instead of jumping straight down her throat, I sit cautiously on the couch's arm and flick my wand, illuminating the entire room, instead of the scarce area the wand's actual light can cover. Seeing her in better light, I notice the damp, dark spot in my old shirt, and it doesn't take a genius to guess what that is.

I still don't mention it. "What was that about?" I snap instead, glaring down at her even if she can't see me.

Her head turns away, apparently from my voice. "Nothing," she mutters, feeling around for something. I suppose it's probably the blanket.

I reach down and snatch it up before her searching hands can find it. "Looking for this," I ask, rubbing the material against her neck. She jerks away.

"Give it here," she says quietly, extending a hand towards me, her head faced down. I click my tongue, before pulling it away.

"Tell me what your nightmare was about and I will," I counter.

She shakes her head. "You don't want to know. Please, give it back. Your room is frigid."

I frown, because for me this is the normal temperature in this place, but I say nothing on the matter. "Come now Granger, telling me can't be so bad," I say. "It's not like I've done anything terrible to you." _There now, I can satisfy my curiosity and perhaps calm her down so I get some decent sleep. _

"It was just a nightmare," she says, leaning over to find the blanket again and nearly touches me in a very personal area. I swat her hand away and she scoots back again.

"Watch it," I snap.

The girl purses her lips. "If I could Malfoy, I would," she replies, snapping me back into reality. _Oh yeah… poor choice of words._

Silence descends on us, and I feel rather like an arse for my comment. That must've just sent her into a fit of depression- it would've made me rather angry. Here I am, trying to be a bit helpful to this unfortunate girl who has been tortured beyond what anyone should be, and yet I seem to keep making her feel like shit. Perhaps I shouldn't talk, but it's not as though I can write something to her. _Bollocks. _

At length, I stand and place the blanket around her shoulders, careful to keep my hands off her skin. Startled, her head whips around, but I'm already making my way back across the bedroom.

"Sleep Mudblood, the days aren't likely to get any better." I know my words are laced with bitterness, but I can't seem to make my tone warm. After all, there really isn't anything I can do to help her at this point. She doesn't respond, and I crawl back into bed, hoping Granger is quiet until morning.

* * *

Morning light is just barely peeking through my drapes when I awaken. I can't tell if Granger is up as well, but I don't see a stumbling woman making her way through my rooms, so I decide she must be asleep. I wonder if she dreamt of the same nightmare again, and I only slept through it. _But with those screams, I doubt that's possible. _

At first I cannot figure out what is out of place, until I stand and stretch, and notice the figure looming in the corner. Immediately I am glad I opted for pajama bottoms the previous night, since I now realize there is a visitor in my room.

"You seem to have made her comfortable," my father sneers, stepping from the shadows. He is dressed as usual, and his ever present cane taps against my floor loudly. "Perhaps a bit too comfortable," he continues eyes icy.

I shrug, not willing to cower before my father so early in the day. He only raises an eyebrow at me, before wandering over to Granger. I follow closely behind, and realize what's going to happen a moment before it happens.

Father walks up behind the couch, glaring at Granger- I almost feel like I've done something decent, as I see his eyes scan over the top half of her that the blanket doesn't cover. Had she been wearing the shirt she arrived up here in, there would have been small shreds protecting her from my father's hungry glare. I don't even want to think about why he always looks at her like that.

He takes his cane and places it between her side and the couch, using it to roll her off the sofa, directly into my glass table. Her head connects and there is a sickening sound, like it cracked her skull- but I'm not quite sure if that's the reason. She hits the floor, glass falling with her, and I step forwards immediately, grasping her arm.

Apparently the bloody girl had been dazed when she hit the fucking table, because as I go to move her, she screams. Dropping her arm, I look up at my father and school my angry expression quickly down into one of indifference.

"This is your plan you know," I say, crossing my arms tightly, "and if you get her killed I doubt the Dark Lord will have any use for her."

Father sneers. "Come now Draco, we're just having a bit of fun. Besides, I'm certain her body can take a bit of pain- look what you've done," he spits, pointing to her. "When I brought her up here, she looked far worse than she does now," he hisses.

I shrug, remaining indifferent. He can't know that it bothers me that he beats people like this; else he will begin using it against me when he is searching for answers. "I didn't feel like having her dirty blood all over my carpet," I say. "That's the last thing I need- a house elf cleaned her up for me."

Father looks skeptical. "A house elf Draco?"

"Yes," I spit, wondering why he is questioning me.

The blond man sneers at me. "I had all the elves attending to _my _needs and the Death Eater's downstairs, there were none at your beck and call last night."

I try to point out that I have a personal elf that is bound to me before my father, but he doesn't wait to listen to me. Before I can even open my mouth, he has his wand drawn and is casting a spell on me.

"_Crucio."_

I drop onto the floor, not far from where Granger's still form lays, and begin to shake. Merlin, I've been receiving this bloody spell as a punishment since I was seven, and yet every time it still hurts. I might be able to handle it better then many people, but that doesn't mean I am immune. Still, I don't even cry out- father knows this isn't strong enough to make me scream.

As quick as the spell was administered, father lets up. I'm breathing hard, and glance over at Granger from my spot on the floor. Through that ugly mop of hair, she's got her closed eyes facing in my direction. I'm sure someone like her can already figure out exactly what's going on, and if she were able to see I'm sure her eyes would be large.

I can see the blood dripping down her skin. Great, now I'm going to have to move swiftly once father leaves if I plan to heal the gash on her head. Her small hand reaches out to find mine and I swat it away. No, that can't be allowed. If my father thinks I really am helping her then I best be ready to have my heart torn out by Voldemort himself.

"Get up Draco," Lucius says sternly, and I struggle to my feet. Everything is in pain- nothing I can't tolerate, but still, pain. I watch him walk through the area I was just lying on, and back to Granger's side. He fists her hair and rips her to her feet, hair pulling out as he goes. I suppress a cringe.

Instead of looking at her however, he watches me. Out of the corner of my eye I can see her quivering, and I wonder why she refuses to speak. "You will not help her again."

"Nor will I allow her to bleed all over my carpet," I snap, glancing at her bloody form. "I'll heal her to keep her alive, because otherwise she will be dead before tomorrow at the rate you are going."

He frowns. "You don't need to be wasting magic on someone like her. I will not have it."

"Then throw her back in the dungeons and forget about the plan," I reply, eyes narrowed. I'm hoping that father realizes I have to help her, in some form, but I'm not so sure it will work. He may be expecting me to break her and get information, but I can't do that if she's dead on my rug.

His fist tightens in her hair, and yanks harder. She whimpers, and I refuse to look her way. "Perhaps you are right," he relents, tossing her onto the floor. She hits hard, and doesn't move. Father's eyes are cold. "Clean the ugly bitch up if you must, and I will see you downstairs in twenty minutes for breakfast. You will be there; your mother misses your presence at the table." With those lovely words, he turns and storms from my bedroom in a huffy manner. I watch him go, and it's not until after he is gone that I realize something.

I never even figured out his purpose for coming up. _Fuck, mother will just love this discussion at the breakfast table. _Rubbing by forehead, I glance back at Granger. A part of me wonders how she is even still alive.

_As if they would let her of all people die so easily. _Walking over to her, it crosses my mind that I have only eleven days before Voldemort is here, ready to tear her apart in a whole new way.

I silently groan, reaching down to pick her up, but she feebly swats me away. "Oh calm down Granger, it's only me."

It's certainly not the most reassuring thing to say, but it's all I can tell her. Picking up the squirming girl carefully, I take her to the bathroom this time and set her on the toilet. Reaching up I carefully brush hair away from the gash on her head, and she hisses.

I roll my eyes. "I can always leave you to bleed to death you know."

As I'm reaching for my wand, she says something I'd really rather not hear, "Please do."

I groan. _It's going to be a long fucking day. _"Unfortunately for you Granger, I can't."

* * *

**A/n: **I know it's kinda shitty, but review anyways and I'll try to have another chapter soon?


	12. Chapter 11 D

**Disclaimer:**All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea.

**A/n:**Here's the next update! Thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**! !

* * *

Barely an hour later I'm sitting on the edge of my bed, rubbing my forehead with my thumb. Granger's resting on the couch- and my bloody father would probably Crucio the fuck out of me again if he saw that- and I can only hope nothing more happens for now.

Merlin, why is this so hard? My father spared me almost nothing when he came up here, and I'm not even entirely sure what he wanted. Did he really just come up to make sure I wasn't treating her well? I don't see him bothering to waste the time for that- he would probably send someone in his place. But whatever he had come to speak to me about is lost now, since he didn't even bother explaining.

My body is still a bit sore from the dark spell, but it's nothing I can't handle. What I really can't handle at the moment is all of this emotional stress. The fucking Dark Lord arrives in less than two weeks, and I'll be sending Granger to her death upon his arrival. That is of course if he arrives at all _knowing _what father has planned. Really, father may not have even spoken with him about this yet.

I glance at the couch, but I can't see Granger. She has eleven days left to live, and I haven't even told her yet. Could I be a shittier person? It's unusual for me to even care about someone like her, but I would never wish it on anyone to face Voldemort- especially not in her state. She won't have a chance, not when she can barely walk.

Yeah, I'm probably a horrible person. But what can I do? I can't rightly sneak her out of here, considering the girl doesn't even know how to walk a few feet without stumbling. It wouldn't matter if I dropped her off in the nearby woods, she'd be dead anyways. No, sending her off is pretty much sending her to die as well. Can I even win in this situation?

Movement from the other side of the room catches my attention, and I reach for my wand at the sound. Just over an hour ago noises like that would've been caused by my father, and so early after recovery, I won't chance anything again. But any worries I have are dashed as Granger rises to her feet. For a moment I think she might be trying to find me, but that idea is crushed as well as she says nothing, walking gingerly along the back of the couch, her hip leaning against it. One of her hands keeps moving from her side up to her probably still thudding head. I watch without interest until she finally stumbles into a wall, seeming happy to have found the barrier.

"What are you doing," I ask, confused.

"Looking," came her reply, and I tilt my head a bit as she stands unmoving for a moment, before turning away from me, headed towards my bookshelf. Upon reaching it, her hand grazes the spines of some of the books and she sighs, content. Can the bloody girl sniff out paper and ink or something? I'm surprised she even located the books that well.

"Isn't it a bit pointless to find a book Granger when you can't read," I ask. That's probably cruel to say, since anyone can tell that girl is in love with texts, but I can't help it. I have to know what on earth possessed her to go searching for my bookcase.

"That's not the point Malfoy," she said quietly, reaching up and removing a random book from the shelf, clutching it to her chest as she slid down the wall. I watch her lay the book flat on her knees and open it up, fingers riffling pointlessly through pages she can't see. Is that supposed to comfort her or something? I would think it would just torture her more.

I guess I'm wrong, because she continues to do this for several minutes. Bored, I lie down on my bed and close my eyes, the gentle sound of pages moving echoing in my ears. Poor Granger, she's losing everything because of this, isn't she; friends gone, eyesight forever gone, freedom gone forever, and death looming a short distance from the present. Doesn't sound like much of a reason to live. If I were in her position- and had a bloody wand- I wager I'd just end my life right now and quit wondering what would happen next. Obviously, it would be nothing very good.

I wonder why that fact bothers me. Should I be bothered that she is destined to die in this house? I was bothered by the way my father and Bella treated her, but that's because it's inhumane. Then again, the torture Voldemort is likely to inflict can't be a lot better, can it? My chest tightens slightly as I realize Granger is in for a lot more pain before she is allowed the bliss of death's kiss.

_Fucking emotions. _Does every bad thing that is going to happen to her have to bother me?

* * *

Someone shaking me later roused me from my apparent sleep. Merlin, did I really fall asleep? If that's father then Granger should go hide in the bathroom… cracking my eyes open, I yawn and realize Granger is the one shaking me.

_How did she even figure out where I am?_ Groaning, I sit up and she takes two steps back, crossing her arms gingerly across her chest. "Someone is here. She has been knocking persistently for several minutes," the once proud Gryffindor informs me, her face turned down. "Perhaps you should acknowledge her."

_And how does she know it's a female? _My thoughts are answered as a loud whisper carries in from the hall, "Draco! Open up already! If I stand out here anymore one of those creepy Death Eater's is going to think the worst of me!"

I groan, knowing exactly who that is. Fixing my eyes on Granger, I attempt a glare but can't stand behind it. I pity this Mudblood far too much. Standing, I grab her arm and drag the shuffling girl back over to the couch, gently shoving her onto it. I'm not worried about the person on the other side judging me.

Wandering to the door, I open it and quickly pull the girl inside. "Pansy, what are you doing? It's the middle of the bloody day and you're out there trying to get into my room? Well of course those blasted Death Eater's will think the worst of you!"

Her gaze hardens. "Well, _sorry _for attempting to come see you," she hisses, jerking herself away from me. "Honestly Draco, what took you so long to answer that door? I had to speak with Antonin Dolohov! And we both know he is far from pleasant."

I grimace. Dolohov is known amongst the ranks of Voldemort for his… sinister, twisted ways of extracting information from anything female. _Poor, poor Pansy._ He's also widely known for his obsession with toying with Pureblood women, even before the war really took off. Perhaps she does have a bit of a reason to be mad at me…

"Sorry," I say, rubbing the back of my head. Oh, I already know she will scream an awful lot more at me once Granger is… gone. But with someone else listening into our conversation, she isn't going to linger on topics like that. _If Dolohov and his gang are wandering around the Manor though, Pansy should not have been wandering around alone, period. Her room is directly next to Blaise's, so why didn't she ask him to accompany her? At least the Death Eater's like him. _"Is there something I can help you with?"

Suddenly seeming nervous, she glanced over at Granger, but instead of snapping her head back around to face me, her eyes linger. Looking over as well I note that Granger is holding her side again.

"Is she still in bad condition," the girl asks quietly, and for a moment I don't even know if Pansy is aware that Granger's blind. I nod, deciding to not even bother trying to figure out what Pansy knows, and the raven-haired Slytherin purses her lips. "What's wrong with her side?"

_How the bloody hell should I know Parkinson? It's not like she didn't spend days down in my dungeons being tormented by my father, Bella, Rodolphus, and probably many others. Oh, and my father came and beat the shit out of both of us earlier, did I forget that? It could be a million fucking things Pansy, so why are you asking me that question?! _Instead of screaming at the girl, I shrug. "She's been that way since I brought her up here, and hasn't let me look at it- wait, why aren't you yelling at me about having her up here? I don't remember ever telling you about this."

She shrugs. "Blaise mentioned it, said you two were… interesting. Honestly Malfoy, why are you even doing this for your father," she whispers. "You're going to get killed for it."

_Tell me something I don't already know, will you?_ "I'm aware Pansy," I say, leaning against the wall, "now what did you want?"

"There's a meeting tonight," she says, glancing at Granger. "I'm not attending, but you are supposed to. In fact, there are few people attending at all."

That worries me. If there are few and far of us attending, this is either very important or frightfully bad. "Who else is coming?"

She shrugs. "I'm not entirely sure, but I know Blaise will be there, since Voldemort likes him so much. I suspect so will both Nott's, your father, Bella and Rodolphus, Dolohov, Snape, and I'm not sure who else." Her eyes dance back to Granger. "She's bleeding you know."

"I'm aware," I hiss in return, putting all the names she just mentioned into a specific part of my mind. I'm probably going to need those later anyways. "But she isn't going to let me anywhere near her skin like that- she doesn't trust me."

Pansy raised an eyebrow. "You're surprised by that?"

I scowl, "No. But I think she will just bleed out."

The girl frowns, before leaving me entirely and walking over to Granger, sitting in front of her on the table. Obviously Granger is scared of who this may be, and presses herself into the back of the sofa. Oh, what is Parkinson trying to do.

"Relax Granger," she says soothingly, her smooth voice like silk. That's the thing about Pansy, she can be sweet and gentle when she chooses to be, but existing amongst these people means you have to have backbone or you die. Pansy is at least smart enough to have some backbone. "I'm not going to hurt you. You do know you're bleeding don't you?"

She tried to shy away from Pansy's hand, but her fingers grazed the dark spot on my old shirt and she hisses. Obviously, there's something wrong.

"Stop moving Granger," Pansy said, after the third attempt to see what was kind of mark there was beneath the shirt, "you're going to make it harder to heal."

"Not with you looking, not with him here," she mutters, and I realize she really is afraid of me. Is it that bad for me to be in the room?

Pansy looks up at me, glaring. "Would you just leave the room?"

I laugh harshly. "You are asking me to leave the two of you alone in my room? That sounds dangerous."

"Malfoy," she snaps, standing and crossing her arms, "I'm going to bloody heal her, but if you make her nervous then you need to leave."

"It's my room," I say again, but now I'm looking at the back of Granger's head. I highly doubt she will let Parkinson any closer to her then me.

She sighs, pulling out her wand. "I can hex you?"

"Fine," I snap, relenting. I may as well take a shower, and clean myself up as well. I mean really, what is she going to be able to do? Without waiting for a reply, I turn and sweep out of the room, straight into my bathroom, and slam the door. This is crazy.

And since when did Parkinson care enough about anyone besides Blaise and me to help them out of pain? Throughout that shower, I puzzle over that. Stepping back out, I dry and fix my hair. When no one has knocked on the door, I sit down on the toilet and glare at the wall. If no one comes to retrieve me in five minutes I'm going out there.

Four and a half minutes after that, Parkinson opens the door and tosses me the shredded remains of my shirt. "I took a new one- well an old one but new to her- from your dresser. The dried blood had attached to the t-shirt, and I had to pry it off of her. You're lucky that I bothered to cast a silencing spell so you didn't hear."

I stare at her. To say I'm stunned is an understatement. What did she have to say to make Granger trust her enough to even get near her like that? "At least she won't bleed out on my carpet," I say, and Pansy rolls her eyes at me, shaking her wand.

"You are such an arrogant bastard," she spits, before sweeping from the room.


	13. Chapter 12 D

**Disclaimer:**All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea.

**A/n:**Here's the next update! Because school is starting soon, updates may become slower, hopefully no longer then a week and if it can be helped, less than a week. :) I try to keep updates regular loves! Thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

* * *

Later that night, I walk into the space that was once our main dining room, taking a seat beside Blasie, who is trying his best to look collected. The assembled Death Eaters here look jittery, and if some of the top followers of Voldemort are uneasy, that can't mean anything good.

I'm seated beside my father, with Blaise to my left. Across from us sit Nott Senior and Theo, Bella and Rodolphus down past them, closer to the head of the table, with Dolohov sitting beside Blaise and Snape leaning at the front of the table, where Voldemort would usually sit.

"Obviously, the dark Lord is not present with us this evening," Snape said, his usual monotone voice echoing lightly in the space around them. "He has asked me to inform you of the current activity among the Order." He swept his cold gaze over each persons face in the room quickly, as though to really catch their attention. "Hermione Granger is currently being searched for."

"Well, she's in our dungeons," Bella said, smiling a crooked smile. "They will have to break down this Manor to find the girl."

"The Order can already guess where Granger is," Lucius spoke up. "Her friends watched her be pulled away from them. If anything, they are only searching for different ways into this place, nothing else. It would almost be safer to move the bloody girl someplace else." His eyes danced briefly over me, but I refuse to meet his gaze. If he is already thinking about places to move Granger to, chances are I will have to go along.

That gets me thinking, and suddenly whatever topic the conversation has drifted to is lost to me. Would father even bother moving Granger? If he plans to send her to her death in eleven days then why would it matter, unless the assembled Voldemort followers are really worried about Potter and his crew appearing soon, which seems like a lot of suicide to me. Could the Order beat this group? I have absolutely no idea.

However, if Granger is moved _anywhere _else, there is little chance she can escape in the condition she is in- unless, my father did send me along. There is absolutely no way I would be leaving with her- I do have my mother to worry about- but, there are other things I could do to get out. I can't- and won't- watch Granger once she escapes, but if she does get out, it's less of a burden on my shoulders.

Wait, am I really trying to figure out how to help Granger? Pansy's words from earlier must really be rubbing off on me. She did seem to lecture me about the whole Granger topic without saying anything outright; but that's Pansy- she dances and hints at what she wants, but will usually make you guess at just what it is.

I suppress a sigh. Would it be easier to have Granger here in this place where the outcome is inevitable, or in a safe house where I can send her off to a different doom and meet my own? Yes, there are so many ways this could go, I'm just not sure quite what to think; I'm not even entirely sure at the moment what I would do if put in such a situation. Shoving my person thoughts back into the depths of my mind, I zone back into the current conversation, picking up on the end of it.

"-Lord to decide. It is not to our discretion," Snape said, before flipping topics. "As for other events involving the Order…"

For the rest of the meeting I sit there, bored. Why am I so focused on the girl up in my rooms? I only have to wait it out eleven more days, so why is she on my mind so much? It's almost as though I can't stand the idea of her dying- which is a lie! She is just a Mudblood- I can handle it!

Right?

* * *

The meeting doesn't last long, and Blaise slips quietly away after- to see Pansy I would imagine. He does guard her quite a bit, so there must be something going on between the two, I'm sure of it. Besides, they would make a nice couple.

I attempt to disappear back up to my rooms as well, but it appears others already have plans for me. "Son, a word?" my father says from behind me. I clench my jaw, fighting down the urge to tell him no, but turn nonetheless to face him. It's surprising to see Snape standing at his side, looking at me with an unreadable expression. Wordlessly, they turn and begin to leave the few remaining Death Eaters who are gathered in the small hallway and have yet to disperse. I follow behind them, wondering what they could have to say. Snape, I'm not entirely sure what to expect, but with my father, it rarely tends to be good news.

We walk a short distance to father's study, slipping inside and shutting the door. Snape casts a few efficient locking charms before either of them speak.

"The Mudblood will not remain here," my father spits his voice full of venom. This obviously was not his decision. "Snape sees her presence as a bigger reason for the Order to come knocking on our door. They may not bring with them a major battle, but they would fight until the end to get that fucking girl back."

Snape rolls his eyes at father's side, and I barely suppress a smirk. My godfather is not half the arsehole my actual father is, although he can be cruel when required. I'm not entirely sure what his standpoint with Granger is; just that he doesn't seem to hate her quite as much as Lucius. "We would like to move her to my father's home, just outside of London, on a small patch of private property that is well guarded- so long as the Lord approves." Unlike my father, he doesn't speak of the man as though he is someone to admire, not by his tone or any comment he ever has towards Voldemort.

I nod. "Shall I drag her down the stairs then?" I drawl, not quite sure what kind of response I want to that.

"No," Snape says, his voice getting a bit more intense. "I will be going back to see the Dark Lord in a few minutes, and by morning I will know whether or not we shall be taking her there at all- once he is reminded she is here."

_Great, does that mean no one informed him or simply that he may have forgotten? If he wasn't informed, then father certainly hasn't had the opportunity to bring up his plan. For my sake, I hope it's not the latter. _"Okay," I say, not sure at all how this involves me.

"You will be watching her if he sees it fit for the girl to be moved out of the reach of her friends," Snape continues, and I fight the urge to scream. More time babysitting Granger? Merlin help me.

"Why me," I ask, raising an eyebrow. Was Snape informed then that I have been helping Granger for a few days now?

"Because your father thinks it is a good idea to give the girl a false sense of security by sending her off with a former classmate," Snape tells me, not looking too happy. I wonder why that is?

I glance at my father, but he is angrily staring me down. From that look alone I can assume he expects me to take this on without question; but of course that's what he would expect. "If I have to," I say, trying to sound angry. Perhaps this private place would be a great place to kill myself.

_Way to keep our thoughts positive…_

"Good," Snape says, "but I must go. I am likely already running late, and he hates to be left waiting." I barely rush out a farewell to my Godfather before the man is out the door and out of sight. I turn to my father, who I know is glaring at me. Crossing my arms, I wait for the lecture I am sure will follow.

"Do not mess this up Draco," he hisses, glaring me down. I wait silently for him to go on, but to my complete surprise he does not continue, and turns his back on me, sitting down in his office chair. "Leave," he commands, when I stand there long after he has turned his attention elsewhere. Thrown by the unusual behavior, I turn on my heel and leave.

It's not like I had anything to say to him anyway.

* * *

The following morning I wake to my door being thrown open. I jump from bed, clad only in pajama bottoms, wand aimed at the person intruding on my sleep.

"You're so kind to a girl you hate," Snape says, standing in my doorway. Glancing over at my couch, I notice there is no head of hair on the armrest, and stomp over. Granger is on the ground, not moving- obviously she is worried about just who has come in.

"I didn't want to hear her complaining," I defend, dragging the girl off the ground and giving her a gentle shove back onto the sofa. Looking over at the clock I groan. It's barely seven in the morning. "Is there something I can do for you?" I ask, crossing my arms, feeling very irritated now that I know I have been woken up this bloody early.

"Have you already forgotten what we spoke of last night?" Snape drawls, catching my attention. Of course that's why he would be up here- but must it be so early?

"Of course not," I snap, irritated. Glancing back at Granger, I notice that it appears she is listening. Has she figured out yet who is at my door?

Apparently, Snape notices as well. "Granger, I see the rumors are true." Flipping my head around I realize he is approaching us, looking on at the girl behind me with pity. "I will do my best to inform your friends of just what has happened."

My eyes widen. _Her friends? Has he been working with the Order then? Merlin's balls, is my godfather a spy?_ "How will you do that," I ask, narrowing my eyes now.

Snape looks up, meeting my gaze. "Come now Draco, you are a smart boy. You can certainly figure out what I mean, but it is not time to discuss that right now. We must move now."

I frown. "Does that mean it was approved-"

"Yes," he says, cutting me off, "but no one else is aware of this yet, and it will be easier to keep it that way. Let Voldemort explain to his followers what has happened- not us. They are not likely to listen well to us."

Begrudgingly, I agree. So now, suddenly, I am going to be staying someplace else with Granger. What the bloody hell does that mean for me?

I don't get a chance to ask Snape anything though, and Granger hasn't even gotten a chance to talk. He reaches out and jerks her into a standing position, grabbing my wrist as well. "If there were more time to plan this Draco, I certainly would have left the majority of this up to you."

The familiar pull of apparation comes to my belly, and then the world is spinning as we are removed from my room entirely- without any of my fucking belongings! Merlin, I didn't even get the chance to grab a bloody shirt!

As soon as my feet touch ground again, I shove away from Snape. He only smirks and lets go of Granger, who crumbles back onto a soft looking sofa, clutching her head.

"Don't do that," she hisses.

"Have no fears Granger," my godfather says, glancing around the space, "You will have no need to leave here by apparation."

I frown, wondering what he means exactly, but my thoughts are cut off as I take in the odd space before me.

* * *

**A/n: **Yup, it's rushed and shitty. Review anyways and maybe I'll come up with something much better for the next update?


	14. Chapter 13 H

**Disclaimer:**All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea.

**A/n:**Here's the next update! Finally, some Hermione! **Note! It is Hermione's perspective of the time when Draco was at the meeting from last chapter for the first half! Then a scene we didn't see! Thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

* * *

I hate Malfoy sometimes, I do. There is absolutely nothing I can do in this room, and constantly sitting in this room doing nothing but stumbling around is wearing me thin. Really what else can I do? I can't read, wizards don't know the first thing about telly's, and planning my escape is very difficult when this Manor is stuffed full of Death Eater's who would just love to end my life.

So here I am again, doing nothing and Malfoy has gone off to that meeting I heard Parkinson whispering about earlier; the girl is not very quiet, despite what she would like to believe. With a sigh, I stand and outstretch my arms until finally I hit something; the smooth service of a wall.

Is this really all I'm going to be doing for my duration here? Is life only going to be full with stumbles, boring conversations about nothing and ending up getting beaten by Lucius and the other Death Eaters (which if I steal Malfoy's wand, I may be able to defend myself)?

Noise outside of the room catches my attention and I turn to press my ear against the cool surface; if anything has come out of being blind, it's been my incredible hearing. The wall is smooth, and I press myself against the surface fully, reveling in the feeling against my skin. This Manor is frigid at night but remarkably warm in the day. Do they try to constantly change the temperature for a reason?

"It's already set in motion. He has been angering our Lord for some time now, and the whole family will be terminated at the next meeting. I'm not sure what that lot is up to, but the parents are grating on his last nerve, and the son is just a little shit."

"I'm not so sure about the son. Voldemort is becoming fond of the boy, what with his new task hopefully drawing information from that bitch. I hear they might even move the girl."

"Keep your voice down," the first man hissed, "we don't want anyone overhearing. We only know because of our appointed task. I thought the boy would be easiest to start with, but it seems the mother is the weak link. Each of those Malfoy men adore her and would die to keep Narcissa safe."

I gasp quietly. I had suspected that the Malfoy's were their key topic, but these two people- men I had decided- were sounding rather brutal. If they were so set on killing the Malfoy men first then why did they have to play dirty and hit their weak spot? It was a smart, awful move. I press my ear further into the wall to continue eavesdropping.

"We could do multiple things to that woman," the second man says, and I can practically hear the evil in his voice. "Lucius would lose his bloody mind."

"Enough of that," his companion replies, "It's for the Dark Lord to decide, and if he plans to use her himself then that is his choice." The two low, evil chuckles that follow sink my stomach.

"I wouldn't mind dueling the son," the first man says again, "he maybe a fucking coward but at least he is a fair enough duelist to make the fight interesting. I'm not saying he would come out of it alive, but at least he wouldn't hide behind a chair. It's just killing that little shit can't handle."

Man number two scoffs. "Draco Malfoy maybe an excellent duelist, but I wouldn't let the boy have a wand if I were going to kill him. That thing would be as far from him as possible; you always hear things about the killers dying because they left their captive with a wand. Young Mr. Malfoy has enough skill to duel anyone; I would snap that piece of wood in half before I went at him."

"Don't be such a coward. The boy is good but he isn't a monster, and he certainly is a duelist, like you said. I would fight the boy, because no Malfoy would ever be allowed to best me!"

"Shh! Do you want one of those blonds to overhear us? Malfoy is currently downstairs, so perhaps he left this door open?"

The man's companion chuckled. "Not if he has that girl locked up in there. He loses her and he can say goodbye to his life. The kid's not a complete waste of space; he can guard things remarkably well."

"So he's a bodyguard to that Mudblood bitch? Why would anyone bother guarding her? Use whatever methods work to abstract information and kill the girl!"

"The Dark Lord has to have a reason for doing things as he is, if the rumors are true. No matter though; the girl will be dead in a few days time and we will know what really happened."

"We better, I'm sick of never knowing anything that happens in this bloody place," man two says, his voice slowly moving away, and I reason that they must be continuing onwards elsewhere. "It's time our Lord gave us something truly meaningful to do."

"Yeah, we aren't completely useless. We're brute, and can keep our bloody mouths shut, unlike that Lucius Malfoy who gloats when he is given a task."

The men move too far away and in their hushed tones I can't hear what they say anymore, but I've heard enough. Turning now so my back faces the wall, I turn and slide down it, settling on the floor, slowly trying to process what I heard.

Not only had those men been discussing the apparent deaths of the Malfoy's, but also the fact that I'll be dead in a few days. Honestly, I don't know if that scares me more or brings me relief; this place is horrible, and the thought of being able to escape it is relieving. But, I wish I could just leave because I escape, or someone comes to get me. I can't die yet; I still have to help my friends defeat this monster, and I can't do that from the grave.

I sigh, wondering when Malfoy plans to return. He left a while ago, and now I feel almost obligated to tell him that the people staying in his home are planning his death- or at least some of them. It would probably be the courteous thing to do, since he has stopped his father from murdering me multiple times, and has even lowered himself enough to heal a Mudblood. I think it would be the right thing to do.

Standing up slowly, I wander back in the general direction of the couch, smiling a small smile to myself when my fingers come into contact with it. I'm finally learning my way around this place.

* * *

The door to this place finally opens, and I can hear Malfoy grumbling as he comes in. I don't say anything to him, just listen for signs about how his mood is. From his tone, it's hard to tell, but giving him information that people are setting up his death much like mine won't be a smart thing to reveal while he is annoyed. That is just asking to start an argument.

I hear a soft plop, which I assume means he has just fallen onto his bed. Standing cautiously, I pad over in the general direction of the bed, stopping when I bump my leg into the side table.

"Granger," he grumbles, "what are you doing?"

I frown. He sounds awfully tired for someone who just went and sat while another Death Eater- or perhaps Voldemort- lectured them. The git had always been on the lazy side when he wasn't playing quidditch, but really, when you sound exhausted from sitting still it's not a good sign.

"Do you know the Death Eater's in this house well?" I ask, reaching my hand out to rest against the wood.

"Some," he responds, sounding just as tired but more interested in our conversation now. "Why do you ask?"

I bite my lip, not quite sure how to go about this. How does one explain that you are living in the place you will probably die in? Then again, it's the same possibility for me. I'm stuck here surrounded by people that would enjoy nothing more than to physically harm me, so it's just as possible that I could die anytime. That thought is rather unsettling, since I have been trying to not focus on those thoughts the past few days. If I focus on things like that, I'm going to lose my courage, and then I really don't have much of a chance.

A finger pokes at my knee, and I jump back, tripping over the Slytherin's damn rug and falling over. I had forgotten the git was there, and had just let myself get lost in my thoughts.

There's a loud string of curse words. "You truly are a hassle Granger," the blond snaps, before two hands grab me and yank me up, dropping me back onto something soft; the bed. I scramble away from him, but Malfoy just curses again.

"Please just sit the fuck still, I can't take your constant jitteriness." I settle myself comfortably, picking up on that tired tone again. "Now what is it you wanted," he continues after a pause.

"I just think you should watch yourself," I say, deciding then and there to wait for morning. Really, what will happen? I doubt the blond will journey out again, and with the way those men were talking, this plan doesn't seem like it's going to take off anytime soon.

"What makes you think that?"

This time it's me who scoffs. "You have to ask? You live in a place filled to the brink with Death Eaters, and Voldemort comes here when he so pleases. From what I've noticed- and trust me, I can still notice things- you seem to hide up here in your room. That's why I say it. This place is dangerous and I don't think any of us should even be here."

There's a short pause before he speaks again. "What do you mean?"

"I mean dealing with this! We are kids for Circe's sake! Yet we are all also pawns in a bigger game, the game of life or death. You, Parkinson, Zabini, you are all pieces of a bigger puzzle that only exist to create the picture Voldemort wants. I'm simply an opposing piece, one that does not fit into his puzzle. We're all young, even Harry, but we're all dealing with things that we shouldn't have to at this age."

"That's the shitty thing about life Granger, sometimes you have to do things you don't want to and you must co-exist among others that you do not like or trust in order to survive. You may be playing this game for the greater good, for _Potter's side_- but I'm just playing to survive. There's a big difference between you and I, now let's just drop this entire topic."

I frown at how easily he dismisses everything. How the hell did we even get on this subject? I said what I did simply to create a different path off of what I am not going to tell Malfoy tonight, but somehow we got into this bigger conversation, covering topics neither of us probably wants to consider.

I stand. "Fine. It's not like I truly wanted to speak to you about this anyways." He groans in protest and falls back against the bed, the smallest sounds telling me this as I make my way back across the room, not tripping this time as I find my way back to the couch. So much for knowing my way around; rugs are tricky to place in a room when you can't see them.

Settling onto the makeshift bed, I sigh quietly. Now Malfoy is in a put-off mood with me and I have to deal with telling him all about the great news I overheard in the morning.

Of course, it's not until after Snape disturbs us before the sun rises that the thought even crosses my mind again. And what's worse, I will be stuck in an even smaller space with the prick!

* * *

**A/n: **Yes I know, it's boring and it's really, really late. I started up school and that on top of everything else over-whelmed me and I just finished writing this. Do I like it? No, not really because somewhere along the way I lost my view of this story and it's not that exciting to write anymore. Hopefully I can come up with something creative to spark my interest again soon so chapters aren't as hard to write and updates aren't as far apart.

There isn't a banner for this story on my facebook, but there is one up for an upcoming story called Smittenly Bitten. It will not be up until after probably all three of my current stories are finished. Check it out! The link is up on my profile! There are ones for some of my other stories too.

It's not the best update, but please review anyways! Perhaps one of your reviews will inspire me :)


	15. Chapter 14 D

**Disclaimer:**All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea.

**A/n:**Here's the next update! More Draco, but we should be getting some Hermione soon again. Thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

* * *

This is definitely not what I was expecting. Is Snape serious? This place is as big as my room! I look from Granger sitting on the couch, over to a connected kitchen, glance down a hall with a few doors, and that's it. There appears to be a door leading outside as well, but before I can even really observe it, the blasted man is speaking again.

"You are expected to remain within this structure until someone comes to retrieve the two of you. There are no sensors or spells, so no one will know you are here unless they are told. The wards do not reach very far past the front deck, and from there you are not protected from whoever ends up finding you." He looks over at me meaningfully. "That means_ both_ of you are expected to stay inside, understood?" We both nod, and its then that Snape inclines his head down the hall. "Draco come with me, I will show you the layout. Granger- no, don't get up- rest and we will return in a moment." He beckons me down the hall and after a brief, odd look in Granger's direction I follow.

Snape is waiting impatiently by a door. "This is the bathroom. There's some muggle medicine here that you will need Granger to help you with, because you have no supplies for potions." I try to protest, but he turns his back on me and keeps walking. Throwing open the second to last door, on the opposite side of the hall, he raises an eyebrow. "The bedroom- yes there is only one; don't look at me like that, you have already been sharing a living space with her for a few days. There are two beds before you panic Malfoy. The last room is empty, so don't even bother going in there. Do you think you can handle this place for a bit?"

I roll my eyes. This place may not be up to my expectations but that doesn't mean I can't deal with it. "Yes, fine," I mutter, turning to walk back to Granger. The layout of this place is so small, I'm certain that I could've figured it out all by myself.

"You need to watch her Draco," Snape said quietly from behind him, and my head whips around so I can glare at him. "She needs help. She can't get around the way she is, not without learning how to, and you happen to be the only one currently around who can do anything for her, so try not to be an absolute arsehole to her."

I scowl. "Why do you care Severus-"

"Snape-" he attempts to correct, since I know just how much he hates it when I address him with his first name.

"-about her," I inquire quietly, leaning against the wall. "You used to love making her life hard just like me and any other Slytherin out there. Why the change of heart?"

His jaw tightened. "For the same reasons you kept your father from killing her," he replies tightly, "And because she doesn't deserve it. It may astonish you Mr. Malfoy but I do not fully support the same side you do. Go ahead and spit that out to the Dark Lord if you must, but I can be almost certain that he will not believe you."

My eyebrows draw together, and the words Snape said earlier about alerting Granger's friends flashes through my mind. "You're a spy," I breathe, realization dawning on me. "You're going to return to the Order and let them know where we are so Scarhead and the Weasel can come and get her, aren't you?"

My godfather rolls his eyes. "The plan is a bit more complex than that Draco, and you would do well to not assume Granger is the only one they are coming for."

My eyes widen and I take a step back, drawing my wand. "You're setting me up to be captured," I ask, astonished.

Snape just rolls his eyes. "That depends on you Mr. Malfoy, and how you play the hand that has been given to you." He walks forwards and brushes past me, headed right back in the direction we just came from.

I stare after him. So he didn't bring me back here at all to inform me about this place, but to shed some light on the bigger picture. But why does he expect me to stay here and help her if the Order will just lock me up once they find us? This is too much to take in at once, and I slide down the nearest wall until I am sitting on the ground.

My first thought is about what he meant about playing my cards. Does that mean I could have a place in the Order? If Snape thinks that they would ever accept me- a Malfoy of all people- then he has really lost his marbles. I am probably the last person they would ever think about to be on their side, and what's more, I may not be completely into this set-up Voldemort wants to create but that doesn't mean I am in the mindset to switch sides! That is one of the hardest things to accomplish and I can't believe that he even suggested it. The man must be overly tired or something to start spitting out ideas like that. Sighing, I bang my head lightly against the wall as I lean back, willing for this entire set-up to end. I was perfectly satisfied living in the confines of my room, not dealing with Granger and being able to make sure my friends were alive. I blame Granger for this whole mess; without her, I could still be in my Manor, probably talking to Blaise and Pansy and trying to make sure no one got too close to her.

But now look where I am; I am stuck dealing with this silly little place and a possible Order break-in soon. Yeah, life really isn't being kind to me right now, is it?

* * *

It's some time later before I decide to go back and see Granger. Upon entering the living area I note that Snape is gone and she is asleep. The girl is lightly snoring, occasionally squirming in her sleep like something is disturbing her, and it takes several moments for me to realize I was just studying the Mudblood. Scowling, I wander into the kitchen and search for food.

_Oh good, a bunch of muggle machines. Now how am I supposed to eat? _Poking around in the kitchen, I find a lot of hard cans and something resembling a medal box. With a groan, I pull out my wand and will something simple like bread to appear. It does, in some silly plastic wrapping.

_You're not cut out for kitchens Draco. _Undoing the plastic wrap slowly as I am fairly certain it will burn me, I reach in for a piece of this odd looking bread as something catches my eye. Looking up, I realize it's the world outside this dingy little space. Glancing back at Granger, I find she is still asleep and decide it won't be a problem to step onto the porch for a look.

Walking briskly to the front door, I throw it open and peer out into the early light. The sun is finally up, but without the cover of clouds- or my very heavy curtains on every window at the Manor- the light is intense and it's practically blinding. Throwing the door shut, I startle Granger awake behind me. Well, it's not my fault I prefer things dark and the fact that we are on a stupid little hill doesn't help.

_Why a hill? Maybe I should look outside again. _I'm still trying to decide whether or not I care anymore about where we are when Granger speaks.

"What are you doing?"

I scowl, wishing she could see the look on my face. "I am trying to figure this bloody place out. Did you know we are on a hill? The fucking sun is positively blinding. This place may be stingy, but I think I prefer it to the light outside."

Her face saddens a bit and its then that I realize she can't even tell if it is light or dark out. Clearing my throat, I look around uncomfortably.

"Right then," I mutter, before another uncomfortable silence descends down on us.

* * *

"Just keep walking straight," I mutter, one of my hands clasped around the sleeve of Granger's robe as I drag her into the bedroom. I am in no mood to listen to the girl stumble around, and as soon as we are in the cramped space, I shove her onto the nearest bed, which seems to be the slightly bigger of the two. She makes a quiet 'ooph' sound as she lands, and I roll my eyes, lying down on my own bed.

Night had come extremely slowly, what with having nothing to do and nothing really to discuss with Granger. I was thankful when it grew dark enough to sleep, and had hurried in here as quick as possible simply so I could escape the bleakness of this place.

Maybe I want the Order to come. Maybe something exciting will happen then, but because I am hoping they arrive, the bastards will probably take their dear sweet time getting here.

We are both silent for a long time, and I'm nearly asleep when Granger speaks. "Malfoy?"

"Mmm?"

"You should be careful."

_Oh please don't let this be a very long topic. I was actually hoping to get some decent sleep. _"So should you Granger, now bugger off, it's late."

I hear her sigh. "That's not what I meant."

"Well what do you mean then," I snap, although my yawn after the words certainly takes the venom out of my statement.

She's quiet for a longtime after that. "Someone is planning to kill you."

"Everyone's planning a way to kill me, just like they are coming up with ways to kill you. Trying to scare me Granger?"

She seems surprised that I am so calm about the matter. "That doesn't worry you at all?"

"Granger, I have never been the favorite out of those Death Eater's. The way I see it, if one of them doesn't kill me, someone from your side will."

"That's a horrible outlook on things."

"That's the realistic outlook on things," I snap, getting tired of this conversation. She's quiet again, and I take this as a sign that I can sleep.

"They were planning to start with your mother," she said quietly, catching my attention. In a moment I'm across the small space, my wand pressing to her throat with enough force that I could probably puncture her with it. She tries to shrink back into the bed, but I fist her hair and make her stay still.

"Don't ever talk about my mother," I hiss, ready to kill the fucking girl. She has no right going on about things like this.

"I'm not," she says, trying to shrink back from the pressure on her neck. "I am just telling you about what I heard!"

Slowly, I let go and step back, realizing my mistake. She lays there on the bed, choking slightly from the pressure I just took off of her throat. Sitting back on my bed, I run a hand through my hair.

"Sorry Granger," I mutter. "I thought you were saying something else."

"No," she spits, her voice sounding rather angry.

There's a pause between us as her breathing evens out, and it's a long time before I dare speak to her again. "Will you tell me what you heard?"

"Are you going to threaten me again because you jump to conclusions without understanding?"

I bite my lip. "No."

"Good," she says tiredly, and I can see her adjusting on her bed to get more comfortable, the slightly different shades of black offset enough to make her stand out. "I'll tell you Malfoy, if only because I don't think they should be trying to kill you."

"And why is that Granger?"

"Because you can be nice when you chose to be."

I scowl, but relax back against my bed to listen to her story, willing her mind to discard the idea of me being nice from its depths and replacing it with the usual prick persona I try to keep up.

Why does Granger keep complicating things?

* * *

**A/n: **Early chapter because I had time :) Not sure it's the best, and it's kind of a filler, but it also kind of has stuff in it? I hope you think so at least! The next one should hopefully not be too long in the making. Review?


	16. Chapter 15 D

**Disclaimer:**All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea.

**A/n:**Here's the next update! More Draco, but we should be getting some Hermione soon again. Thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

* * *

The following morning I wake before Granger and take this opportunity to prepare for the day. After everything she dumped on me last night, I'm going to need the hot shower awaiting me.

She can't be serious; they are going to start with my mother? That's positively mid-evil, and cruel. If anything, my mother is as far detached from everything as she can be. I feel a stab of pain in my chest as I strip down to step into the shower, reminding myself that she is still stuck at the Manor. Fuck it; I should've made Snape bring her along! Now there is little I can do; sending an owl would be far too risky and I'm not sure the fireplace here is even connected to the floo if this is supposed to be keeping us safe. Having people be able to contact us would probably be a bad thing seeing as we are on opposing sides.

Not only do Granger's words ring in my head, but Snape's do as well; t_hat depends on you Mr. Malfoy, and how you play the hand that has been given to you. _What did that mean? He sent us here because the man is a spy and is only helping the Order in retrieving Granger. I can't even imagine when I'll have to deal with that, but it could be at any moment. With that thought, I speed up my shower, not at all in the mood to be bothered while nude.

By the time I finish, I can hear stumbling outside the door and assume its Granger. With a multitude of thoughts circulating in my head, I open the door and barely catch her as she attempts to lean against the 'wall' I just moved. Realizing that there was a space there, she moves out of my grip and straightens in front of me, her eyes now bearing some sort of odd, black covering. I feel horror egging into my body.

"What happened to your eyes," I hiss, stepping back. Is there a disease out there that turns blind people's eyes utterly black… with handles?

She chuckles- chuckles!- before reaching up and removing the offending black- which was apparently just a covering. "They're sunglasses Malfoy; I found them in a drawer in the room. I suppose that means you haven't done a lot of searching then?"

_Oh bloody hell, she sounds chipper. Perhaps she knows that's it's only a matter of time before she is back with her friends then? _"Only for food," I grumble, before realizing something. "Have you even eaten since we got here?" The slow shake of her head makes me groan. When I had cooked food last night, it had been while she was asleep. Grabbing her shoulder, I steer her out of the space. "Guess I better make something then," I continue, deciding its time I feed my stomach was well.

Once we have eaten, I excuse myself- by leaving- and sit in the living room, pondering everything I know. Granger was supposed to remain at the Manor and basically become a pawn in a game to get Harry bloody Potter to come and save her, and in the process die herself. Since Snape has now set us up in a location the Death Eater's seemingly don't know of and the Order has access to, it's only a matter of time before Potter and his gang start breaking down the doors to retrieve her. Once that happens, I am fucked. What would the Order ever do with me?

The entire plan with Voldemort would have worked out just fine if I had not needed to come with Granger. Now the Dark Lord would be furious and my parents would be hurt for my absence. Considering what Granger told me, people were already plotting the ends of our lives and would probably begin with my mother. Which meant that she would die first if I were not at least present when Voldemort arrived, which just makes me cringe; that would be a very painful death on my part, for I am sure he will not tolerate me anymore if I am to fail this task my _father _created, not even the Dark Lord himself. Well, at the very least maybe I can save my mother. That daunting thought in mind now, I sit back and will Granger to find my wand to kill me, and just save me all the trouble.

So what can I really even do? I'm no saint; I don't sacrifice myself, and I don't try for the greater good. But my mother has been the only person in life who cares; she may have been an obstacle when I was trying to move Granger from the dungeons to my room, but she only did it out of fear for me. I sigh. Now I have to get myself killed to even have a chance at doing something to protect her. My father can fend for himself for all I care.

With my head swirling, I lie on the couch and eventually find sleep.

* * *

The next time I wake up it's because of another body lying close to mine. It's a moment before I realize the couch is gone and that I am now on the floor. My eyes fly open, locking on the slightly shaking form of Granger. I rub my eyes, clearing the sleep from them before even addressing her.

"Just what are you doing?"

Her head whips up- those damned 'sunglasses' on her face again- and its apparent that she didn't notice I had stirred. The fact that she thought lying so close to me was acceptable was completely insane. I shove her away some, and she moves, her body seeming to not be in nearly as much pain as it usually is. For that, I am grateful. I don't know if I have the means to make a bloody replenishing potion here and keep her from dying; I'm not sure I have enough to make _any_ potion.

"Sorry," she mutters, pulling herself up onto the couch. "You were shaking; I thought I would try to assist." She shrugs. "Obviously, I shouldn't have bothered."

I soften my attitude just a hair. I know my dreams are not always pleasant- and really, in times like these, whose are- but I didn't think Granger would ever bother trying to help me. It's considerate if nothing else.

"Thanks then," I say awkwardly, sitting myself down beside her. She tilts her head a bit, as though looking at me, but I know that's impossible and shove the thought away. She won't see anything anymore.

It's quiet for a long time after that. The silence seems to eat at me, enlarging my worries. Sleep hadn't been peaceful but at least in my head there had been more than silence. Now, it's quiet again and the same thoughts from earlier are trying to make their way back into my mind.

I wait several minutes before saying something, anything, to take the silence away. When did my mind become so haunted?

"What's it like," I ask, not bothering to make myself sound gentle. I pity her all the time, the last thing she probably wants is me babying her about this topic; I'm sure she knows what I am.

Granger takes a sharp intake of breath, and for a moment I don't think she is going to say anything, but she does. "Peaceful, in a terrifying way." I frown, waiting for her to continue. When I don't say anything, she does. "It's terrifying, because I'm never going to see anything again. We don't need to be wasting time fixing my eyes when other people's lives are at stake. Snape told me on his way out about what this place is, that they are coming." She swallows. "It will only be a few days."

"I assumed as much."

She nods. "It's peaceful though, because I never have to worry again about how gruesome something looks, or how terrifying everyone is. I'm blind Malfoy; it's not going to change but it's not all together a disability."

I frown. "You can barely walk around."

"I walk perfectly fine, when I have time to map out where I am going. I will be able to help as soon as I am back with Harry and Ron," she continues, and I can practically hear the longing there in her voice. "I miss them."

"That's not a surprise."

She turns her head towards me. "You should come with us."

"Something tells me I will be Granger, as a prisoner to your side."

Hermione shakes her head. "Not like that Malfoy; come with _me_. You didn't leave me to die so Harry and Ron can't just ignore you. I would've been dead ages ago if it wasn't for you." She pauses for a moment. "You don't have to go back there."

I laugh darkly, shoving away from the couch. "That's a fucking lie Granger; I _have _to go back to my Manor," I say, trying to not sound bitter. "My parents are there; you said so yourself that people are planning our deaths, and I can't leave them- I can't leave my mother to that fate. I will not go anywhere with your side and I refuse to be a prisoner." I know I'm ranting now, but I can't help it. Everything is so messed up at this point.

She's slowly shaking her head. "If your mother is uncertain about following Voldemort, the Order will protect her so long as she offers some sort of information and can prove she isn't a spy. I've seen it happen Malfoy."

"Yes well my _father _will notice her absence," I spit, beginning to pace. "Stop trying to come up with solutions for me Granger; I am not going anywhere with you when your precious Order gets here and that's all I'm saying. I'm certainly not changing my mind."

"So you would rather die?"

Her words stop me in my tracks, and in a moment I have a hand gripping her throat, my anger rearing its head. "Don't ever, say that," I spit. "I would just rather not be a _coward _for once in my fucking life and save someone Granger!"

Her hands reach up and try and pull my one away, and I release, stepping back. Caught up in that single moment I hadn't even realized what I was doing, and had crossed a line.

"You saved me," she replied quietly, rubbing her neck. "That should count for something."

"It's not the same and you know it," I reply, fighting myself. I would really rather not hit something; violent tendencies in a small space are a bad thing. "You're not my mother," I continue, pacing again. "It's different."

"It still changes you from being a coward," she says quietly, staring off blindly in front of her. "The cowardly, snobbish schoolboy would've left me to die without a thought."

"Maybe he would've," I reply, sitting down on the floor again where I had begun. "It doesn't change my answer Granger; when the Order comes I can't go with you, I have to look out for my mother."

She nods tightly. "How do you propose you're going to get away? Snape didn't leave instructions on how to leave this place, or contact others. We don't even have an owl; I know, I would've heard it."

I shrug. "I'll figure something out Granger. I seem to be fairly good at that. I mean, I bullshitted a bunch of things with my father to keep him from smashing your face into the ground on multiple occasions."

"And you would rather go back to that man," she said quietly, fiddling with the hem of my old shirt.

"I would rather say I tried to help my mother from the wrath of multiple people than live with knowing I left her to die while residing in the comfort of the protection of the Order."

For a long time, she says nothing in return, and I give up on getting a response. I've made my way into the kitchen to prepare something else with this strange muggle food when she speaks again.

"Then I admire you."

"Excuse me," I ask, eyebrows drawing together. She stands and wanders over to me, only bumping into the counter as she tries to walk around it.

Granger stops in front of me, her hand resting on the counter for a moment before it begins to move along the smooth surface, finding mine in the end and she grips it. I resist the urge to completely throw her off, and her next words make me glad I restrained myself.

"You're not the same person I used to know; you're willing to give up your life to save someone else's, and that's more than I can say about what you would've done at one point in time. I'll help you get away from the Order, if only because I think you deserve to save your mother, and yourself."

And for a long time, we stand there in a way that should've seemed foreign and awkward, but was really not so awkward after all; we just stood in each other's company, holding hands, vibing off the other's strength to go on while the war around us grows worse and worse.

* * *

**A/n: **Yup, that's it. So, I'm pretty sure that I know how this will end, and it will certainly fall under the 'tragedy' label for this story. Will you people hate me for it? Possibly but I think it'll be very fitting with the story itself. Romances should never end the exact same, after all. Anyway, I'm not sure how many more chapters there are but it's slowly drawing to a close (which could be anywhere between 10 and 25 chapters, so don't start worrying yet). I hope you liked this chapter; it had a different tone and opens the story up for more events coming soon. So what did you think? Let me know in one of those wonderful reviews you readers sometimes leave :D


	17. Chapter 16 H

**Disclaimer:**All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea.

**A/n:**And here's Hermione**!** Thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

* * *

I think Malfoy should come with me when the Order comes. I respect him for trying to return and protect his mother, but I think it will be a futile action, and then he will die as well. I don't think he needs to die, because he has shown to me sides of him that I could never have imagined to exist, but they are sides of him I am happy to have gotten to know.

Still though, I wish he would come. He could be so helpful on our side, if he would only drop his stubborn attitude and divulge some decent information. Harry and Ron may not take kindly to the idea, but I think it wouldn't be so bad. I mean, if he is at least going to help us, they can't complain.

After Malfoy and I finally released hands earlier, he retired to the room. I didn't follow, because I sensed my presence would be unwelcome, at least at the moment. If he wants time to himself, I should be able to grant him at least that, right? Besides, I still need to sort my thoughts out, because once whoever arrives, I probably won't have the opportunity to again for a while, and above all else I am just hoping to convince Malfoy to come along; it's the best route, at least in my mind. If he is truly set on helping his mother, then there is nothing I can do.

* * *

It's morning before I really speak with Malfoy again. I can here a cup clinking on the kitchen table and I make my way in, attempting to take the chair he has already occupied. Then he does the strangest thing, and guides my hand to the opposite side of the table, showing me where the chair is so I can sit down properly. I say nothing until the exchange is over.

"What was that for," I ask, my hands coming to rest on a mug of something.

"That's coffee Granger, and I didn't think it would be polite to let you trip."

"You've let me trip before," I counter, reaching out to grasp the mug, before bringing it to my lips to take a long sip. This is certainly an additional luxury that I would not have expected, but here it is, on the table in front of me.

"I suppose I just decided it was rude."

That catches me off guard, and my drink stops halfway to my mouth. Setting the cup down slowly, I raise an eyebrow over sightless eyes, the action partially hidden by the overly large sunglasses. "Rude? You've been rude to me my entire life, even at your Manor, what could possibly have changed your outlook on that?"

"War," he says simply, and I shut my mouth. I suppose that's more than enough of an answer, considering how the war has changed us all. There's a pregnant pause in time before I speak again. "Do you think your friends are alright? You know, at the Manor?"

Even from across the table I can feel him stiffen, and the atmosphere took on a rather heavy, thick feeling. "Blaise would never let anything happen to Pansy. They will keep each other alive."

"Like you and me," I press, wondering what he thinks. He had kept me alive on more than one occasion, in more than one way. If he came with the Order, I could repay the favor.

"No. Blaise keeps Pansy alive because he loves her, and she him. We don't love each other Granger; we simply have the misfortune of being stuck in terrible situations. I keep you alive because no one deserves what happened to you, and I don't think there has ever even been an opportunity for you to return the favor."

"I can if you come with me and the Order."

He sighs, loudly. "I already told you my answer Granger, and it's final. I have other things to handle."

"What about after you have found your mother," I press, placing both of my lower arms on the table in a crossed position. "You can't stay in that place and hope to survive what's coming. If the coming battle takes place elsewhere, you two can possibly slip away and survive this, but if the Order ends up storming the place, you'll be trapped in there, as will Pansy and Blaise, and you will all have to fight or die. That's not why you are going back, is it? You just want to ensure your mother's survival, but it will do no good if you cannot get out."

He must've slammed something onto the table- probably his hand, because a glass falls and breaks, while his seems to only tip over, for I can feel the hot liquid paying with the tips of my fingers. I pull back a bit, waiting for the rampage I am sure will come.

"What do you expect me to do then Granger? I can't leave her, and I can't truly escape either. It's one or the other, and I would rather help my mother and friends survive then do nothing."

I sigh, trying to think of some way to help this blond boy that has already helped me multiple times. A thought comes to me, and I scoot my chair back but remain siting, afraid to step on the shards of the cup. "Is there a necklace anywhere around here?"

"A necklace," he says, sounding quite bored with the idea.

"Yes, a necklace. Will you check the bedroom for one?"

"If you walk with me," he grumbles. I hear him mutter something after that but I don't catch it; seconds later he's dragging me to my feet, the floor free of shards. Apparently, he cleaned up the mess he created.

We wander into the room, and I sit down on my bed. If I had a wand, I could help him, but I'm not even sure where mine is anymore. After a few minutes something is dropped into my lap. As I reach for it, he speaks. "There's your bloody necklace, but I'm not sure how it's going to do us any good."

I pick it up and gingerly run my hands over the surface. Triangular, with a circle in the middle and a line also. My eyebrows rise up; this is a Deathly Hallows necklace; it can't be used!

"Are there anymore," I ask quickly, setting it aside.

"That's the only piece of jewelry I could find Granger; settle with it. The Deathly Hallows isn't that terrible."

I purse my lips. If he only knew my intentions. Before I can even open my mouth, there's a large pop from down the hallway that draws our attention. I wonder what has happened, but Malfoy has me hauled to me feet, placed behind him before I can even decide what to do.

There's a pause as someone walks down the hall towards us, stopping a distance away.

"You're fucking kidding," Malfoy mutters, and I already know what's happened. Walking around him timidly, I let the person see me.

"Gracious Hermione, what's happened to you," the voice says, and I recognize it easily. I don't need eyes to know exactly who this person is; my favorite Defense Against the Dark Art's teacher, Remus Lupin.

* * *

It took longer than necessary to persuade both Malfoy and Lupin to not hex one another, but they finally agreed to stop trying all together, which I am sincerely grateful for. We all sit now in the living room, Malfoy in the chair to my right and Lupin on the couch beside me to my left, discussing things.

"I thought the Order wouldn't come for a few weeks," I say, my head turned straight. It makes no sense to keep repetitively turning my head to the speakers or to who I am addressing when I can't even see them. Oh yes, explaining the ordeal with my eyes was not the best of topics, and I'm certain that I will be doing it quite a bit once I get back to Head Quarters.

"They didn't," Lupin says, shifting on the couch. "I stopped through here on my way back to Head Quarters simply to see if Snape had delivered what he had promised."

"So my godfather is really a spy," Draco mutters, and I can hear the venom in his voice. Why does he sound sop resentful to the topic? He hates Voldemort just as much as I do, shouldn't he be happy the man is really a spy, who could have the means to help Malfoy switch sides or become one as well?

"Yes, he is," Remus says, "and a damn good one, so it would really be helpful Draco if you did not inform your father of his wavering loyalties. I hardly think you would want to see the man killed by someone you follow-"

"I don't follow the man," Malfoy spits, and I raise an eyebrow. I know he is quite unhappy with the way Voldemort has been treating him and the Death Eater's planning to kill him, but telling an Order member outright is not something I would've expected.

"Then who do you follow my boy," Remus asks again.

There's a pause in time before Malfoy replies, and by this point I had begun to think he was trying to simply end the conversation with Lupin's question. "No one."

Lupin seems to take that into account, with a pause of his own. "Interesting. I would never expect a Malfoy to have wavering loyalties, much less share them with someone like me."

The blond scoffs. "I would assume that you people would at least trust me to not divulge what is happening here to the people on Voldemort's side, so I require you to do the same. If any of your nosy Order people ask you about me, I am still loyal to the Dark Lord."

"And why is that," he presses, seeming interested. I truly wonder where this topic will lead, and whether or not Lupin is going to end up pushing too far.

"I don't think that's any of your concern. I kept Granger alive; stop pressing for more information because you won't get it."

I purse my lips as Remus speaks again. Apparently my idea of having Draco help the Order is already being shot down in his mind. _Bollocks_. "You do realize my boy, that you will become a prisoner when the Order comes to retrieve Hermione. You cannot go back with the Death Eaters; we cannot trust you, and I'm not entirely sure why you would want to."

Draco groans. "Again, it's none of your concern. I presume that means you are leaving Granger with me here again? Or perhaps you will take her now and leave me to be taken prisoner?"

Lupin pauses, and for a moment I wonder if he knows the answer. I shift on the couch, able to feel the discomfort in the room. When he does speak again, it's not at all what I had expected would be his response. "You will not hurt her."

He scoffs. "Excuse me? Does it seem like I have hurt her before?"

"No, but if I am ever going to live with myself then I must believe that she is safe. Since there is a lack of physical damage and resentment, I'm going to guess you are not the monster your father is."

Although I am a bit offended that they have moved to talking about me as though I am not here, I know that it's the least of my concerns once Lupin mentions Lucius. I flinch lightly at the name, and I can hear Malfoy growl.

"_Don't _ever compare me to my father," he hisses, and I hear him stand. He begins walking, and I realize he is pacing as the footsteps begin to take on a pattern.

"I'm not Draco; I am simply creating a set of rules. The Order cannot know I stopped here because it would go against my orders, but I had to make sure everything was alright. Someone- probably four or five Auror's- will be around to come get the two of you tomorrow or the day after. I have to know I'm leaving Hermione in good hands."

Good hands? Lupin must've hit his head. Draco has certainly not been terrible to me but I cannot begin to imagine why he thinks this is a good idea. Malfoy seems to think so too, and tries to point it out; "I hardly-"

"I have to go," Lupin interrupts, cutting conversation short. "You two don't have a lot of time left together, so cherish it or relish in it, that's entirely up to you. But the war is ready to surface, and time is running out. You don't have long to wait."

"Lupin-" I begin, but another loud pop alerts me that he's gone. He barely stayed- what? An hour tops? Something tells me he cut that conversation short for a reason.

I'm about to try and stand to find myself a water, when Draco's voice cuts through the now quiet air, silent for the past five minutes.

"Why does everyone assume I am the exact replica of my father," he mutters, and it stops my actions entirely. Is that a literal or figurative question? I have no idea, just that he seems to be talking to himself. I move to walk in the general direction of the kitchen, but his hand catches mine and stops me.

"Tell me why Granger. Tell me why everyone thinks that."

This is going to be an awkward conversation, isn't it? Lupin just had to leave me to answer all the questions…

* * *

**A/n: **Maybe a bit choppy. Any thoughts? We have a nice conversation coming up next between the two. So what do you think about the necklace and Lupin appearing? Let me know!


	18. Chapter 17 D

**Disclaimer:**All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea.

**Important**** A/n:**Alright guys, here's some Draco. Soon we are going to be getting into bigger issues and drama, so just you wait! But because of how life is going, the updates for all three of my stories are going to become scarce. That doesn't mean I am stopping or anything, but Immortal Punishment and What Would You Give are moving to every two weeks when there is an update. I just don't have the time. For a story like this though, I am going to try for weekly since the chapters are short but I'm not sure it will work. I just thought I should let you guys know! Thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

* * *

I can feel her hesitation. Her body went stiff when I grabbed her arm, indicating she probably isn't comfortable with this topic at least. Part of me says simply to let go and drop the question; part of me doesn't want the answer, but it can't be that awful, can it?

She shifts a bit, and I release my grip on her wrist entirely so I don't rub her skin wrong. She sighs heavily before she says anything.

"Why wouldn't people assume you are just like your father Malfoy? You have come across as a bastard to almost everyone, you fight for Voldemort's side and if I remember correctly you were an absolute terror in school. Our peers believe you are like your father because of how you carried yourself through school, and adults see it because despite whether or not you are a coward who did not kill the man assigned to him, you still have a high place in the Dark Lord's inner circle. Granted, he may just be using you to help and plan your family's deaths, but as far as anyone else knows you are simply following in your father's footsteps."

I scowl, looking away from the blind girl. That's how people portray me; a prodigy of evil? I'm not even close to that. I certainly have a lot of family members with a thirst for dark magic, but I myself do not. It should be obvious by the simple fact that I have kept Granger alive, although nobody really knows that.

"I see," I say, standing up. "I suppose that clears a lot of things up then." Brushing past her, I consider going back to the bedroom, but she will probably go there to look at that Deathly Hallows necklace again. Really, what does she think I'm going to do with that? Shaking my head, I walk away, mindful that my footsteps are heavier and faster than necessary.

* * *

It's late before I see Granger again, and it's only because she comes to find me. Glancing over at her, I realize she had brought that necklace onto the porch with her, and I wonder why.

She searches for my hand, before flipping it over and placing the damned necklace in my hand.

"Please wear it," she said quietly, taking a seat beside me in the only other chair on this small porch. I remember Snape's words about not straying far from this place, and considering there is nothing interesting here, nor anything impressive, I find it a useless task to go exploring. Besides, I doubt I will be here much longer as it is.

I raise an eyebrow at her. "Whatever for? There is no reason for me to wear a symbol that's going to get me killed Granger."

She is already shaking her head even before I have finished speaking. "Trust me; wear it."

"Why?"

"It's important."

"But why is it important Granger," I press, irritated. Can't she see that I have no interest in wearing the random jewelry found here? I am a Malfoy for Circe's sake! I can't just go around wearing things we find in old, unused homes.

For a long time, she doesn't reply, and I can only assume that she has no comeback. But at length, she does speak again. "Protection."

I blink, turning to glare at her once more. "Excuse me?"

"Protection," she said, in a stronger voice. "It's for protection."

I stand, irritated. This girl thinks she is going to _protect _me, when she can hardly fend for herself? Unlikely! I toss the necklace across the desk, watching it skitter and slip between the wood boards, disappearing beneath us. "I don't need your protection Granger," I snap, stomping past her. Really, the nerve of that girl.

"But you will if you go back to them." Her words catch my attention, and I stop at the front door, taking a breath.

"My safety is none of your concern, so kindly stay out of my personal life."

"You've been involved in my personal life for a week now."

A week? It can't have been that short of a time! Too many damn things have happened for it to have only been seven days. "I'm only involved in your fucking life because I saved it Granger, nothing more. You do not owe me anything so stop trying to help me. I'm returning to my Manor and you will do nothing to help or stop me."

She sighs, digging through her pocket. A moment later, I watch her draw out _my _wand and place it on the chair I just vacated, her head turned down. Now how the fuck had she gotten to that?

In a moment, I have it snapped back to me, the tip pressed to her right temple, her head turned painfully so that it's resting on the wall behind her. "Don't _ever _touch my wand Granger," I hiss, attempting to intimidate her. But no, something is off. I feel a bit strange shoving the wand against this girl's flesh, when in reality I shouldn't care less. Why is that?

"Relax Malfoy," she says, adjusting her head a bit so my wand is pressing into her jaw. "I meant nothing by it. I just had to place a simple charm on the necklace; you can check what it was if you like."

"Tell me what it was," I hiss.

"I made a portkey," she says, attempting to move further away from the pressure on her face. I roll my eyes and relent, stepping away and placing my wand back into my pocket again.

"Explain Granger," I say, looking elsewhere. It's not that I feel remotely bad about denting her face a bit, simply that she is becoming a bother; of course it's that.

"I turned the necklace into a portkey for protection," she said, "it was there so that in the event that you need help it would bring you back here. If you are intent on going back to them you should have a means of escape. Snape was the only one who knows about this place, yes?"

I shrug, taking things in. "I believe so."

"Then only he should know how to get here. I'm sure once we get past where the wards end we could apparate, but since it seems that we will be going to two different places, that idea is mute."

"Yes, it is."

"So I made that in case of an emergency. Maybe if those people try to kill your mother you can bring her here and you two can stay here until something else can be done."

I scowl, suppressing the urge to scream at her. Merlin, I didn't understand her one bit. "Why are you bothering to help," I snap instead, turning to look at her again. If only I could see her eyes, then perhaps I would be able to read what emotions lie there. "You owe me _nothing _Granger, so why is your goody-two-shoes act kicking in for me? Why are you spending the time to _steal _away my wand just to do something _nice_?"

The brunette shrugged, her body turning from me. "Simply because you don't want my help with anything doesn't mean I don't think it is necessary."

"Why," I growl, frustrated. "What good is this doing you? Why are you bothering? You helping me isn't going to help you. The Order is coming soon, and then you will be tended to and all that lovely other shit they will give you. Unless I apparate back to my home before they arrive, I'm going to be a prisoner and a hated one at that."

"You saved me and it did nothing for you," she muttered in return, and I clamp my mouth shut. Why does she have to notice every little detail, even without eyes?

Instead of replying, I open the door and step inside, slamming it behind me as hard as I can. We can continue this conversation later- or hopefully, never.

* * *

I'm sitting in the room later, and Granger still hasn't come in. I doubt I have hurt the girl's feelings in any way, but what we discussed earlier is still embedded in my mind and I am definitely spending too much time wondering about it.

She made an excellent point, stating that I helped her when I had nothing to gain. At the time, I had helped her simply because I could not tolerate that kind of abuse being inflicted on a human being by anyone- especially someone of my own flesh and blood- and it had not been a big deal. It had evolved though- overtime- into a much larger issue than I often like to admit. So long as I ignore things, they typically don't have to come into the light.

However, this does. I know now that she will bring this up again, and it will be very unpleasant to deal with. That is, if we are both still around to talk. If I plan to be gone before the Order arrives I can leave no earlier than morning. If Granger can learn to steal my wand, then she is perfectly capable of taking care of herself starting tomorrow until her friends get there; I'm certain she won't have long to wait.

I sigh, running my fingers through my hair. My fringe comes down and falls in my eyes, but I try to ignore it. Really, I don't care. I am much too caught up with my thoughts.

She really did mean well, didn't she? What with taking my wand and making a portkey out of that necklace. But doesn't she understand? I disappeared without the approval of Voldemort from my home, and once I get back I will have to heavily pay the price. If he sees the emblem on the necklace, I'm certain I will be dead on the spot. Death Eater's do not wear those, and it will be obvious I have been speaking with the opposing side- which in reality I have been. I hate that Dark Arts teacher Lupin- but as least he wasn't a complete arse upon arrival. Had that been Potter or Weasley, I'm sure there would've been hell to pay. Granger has been hurt after all, and I am the only one around to take out their aggressions on. Yes, I will certainly have to be gone before morning.

I just don't understand her; Granger should be shunning me and not doing anything to be of some help, but she still tries to anyway. Why? She has nothing to gain. Perhaps this is why I'm on the evil side of things; I never do anything out of the goodness of my heart, and she seems to be exploding with goodness, even in the most tragic situations like this.

I roll over on my bed. She is undoubtedly still out there on the porch, but I'm not going to spend the time to check on her. If the Order were here, I would likely have a wand to my head by now. If it were the Death Eaters', I would've heard screams.

No, she's fine and she can survive finding her own way inside again.

* * *

It feels as though I have just fallen asleep when something cool falls on my cheek, waking me up. I hear shuffling and the creaking of bed springs, and I realize Granger has finally come inside. Reaching up, I remove the offending item and grab my wand- which is now going to live under my pillow because I cannot trust that girl- and light it.

The piece staring back at me is a necklace, the metal bent into the shape of an 'M', which I can only assume is supposed to stand for Malfoy. I blink for a moment, before rolling over and staring at the lump of Granger on the opposite bed.

"Did you make this?"

"The medal is flimsy," she muttered, sounding tired. "It took a while but it morphed just fine. I figured having the Malfoy initial on a necklace would be enough of a snobbish Pureblood look to pass through the halls of your Manor without being suspicious. You can refine the edges and clean it up all you want."

I don't reply, but instead study the necklace. It's small, and she may or may not have broken parts of the original off to make this, but I can't tell. The fact alone that she bothered to make this at all is enough of a reason to make me feel like a real bastard.

Reluctantly, I sit up and drop it around my neck, pushing it beneath the collar of my shirt. I would expect the medal to be hot if she did this the muggle way, but it's still cold. Strange.

I turn to say some snarky comment to her, but the girl is already asleep, blankets pulled tight around her. I blink, checking the time. It's just past two. How long had she been working on the damn thing?

If I felt bad before now, its worse; for whatever reason, she is intent on helping me, even going to lengths like this. The necklace itself is a bit uneven, which I blame on her lack of sight, but a quick tap of my wand and it appears as though I bought this in a fine shop. I'll hand it to Granger; she at least knew what she was doing.

Lying back in bed, I fight back the thoughts in my mind telling me to get out of there. I'm exhausted, and so long as I set my wand to wake me up at six, I should be fine to get out of here, as long as I wake up.

Just before I fall asleep, I glance back at Granger. That girl spends far too much time worrying about other people.

* * *

A pressure to my temple snaps me awake. Groggily, I look around, finally looking up and meeting the eyes of someone I would really rather not face; Weasley.

_Oh shit._


	19. Chapter 18 D

**Disclaimer:**All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea.

**Important**** A/n:**Hello again! It's been a bit but here I am with another new update! Thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

_A pressure to my temple snaps me awake. Groggily, I look around, finally looking up and meeting the eyes of someone I would really rather not face; Weasley._

_Oh shit._

"Stand up Malfoy," he hisses, shoving the wand further into my temple. I suppress the urge to say something snarky to him; the boy is covered in dirt and scratches. I have no idea what he could've been doing since Werewolf boy had said no war had ensued yet, but it is Weasley so I guess the horrible attire isn't too surprising. Wearily, I stand, the git's wand pressed into my head the whole way.

"Hermione," I hear Potter say, and from the corner of my eye I see him slink into the room. Circe, he looks just as beaten up as dear Weasley over here. These two really could consider some cleansing charms. But as soon as he said Granger's name, my eyes advert to the girl sitting on the bed with those muggle glasses meant for the sun, gripping the edge of her blanket like a lost child; its obvious Granger just isn't quite sure what's going on. At the sound of her name though, she cocked her head to the side.

"Harry," she asked in return, and seconds later they are hugging each other, Granger stumbling around to find him properly. I practically smirk when she stands on her tiptoes to hug him, but the action is unnecessary since Potter is not all that tall. Apparently she has gotten too used to me being around, and I'm not sure that's a good or bad thing. "What are you doing here? Where's Ron? I heard him-"

"Over here," the ginger says in a happy voice, pressing the wand against my head, as though reminding me, _again_, not to move. Granger unlocks herself from Potter and walks in the direction of Weasley's voice, holding her hand out. The action alarms both newcomers and I can see fear spreading across their faces. As soon as Granger touches the redheads chest, his wand removes itself from my right temple just so Harry bleeding Potter can shove his own against my left. Pricks.

"Hermione what's wrong," the ginger asks, holding her close, and I roll my eyes. Far too much affection. "Why are you stumbling around so much? And why are you wearing these gla-"

"Don't touch them," she screamed jumping out of his hold, and I raised my eyebrows. Ah, at least I wasn't the only one she yelled at for getting close to those ridiculous things. "Don't you dare touch them!"

Weasley held up his hands. "I won't Hermione, okay? I won't." His eyes slide over to me, and I can feel Potter's intense gaze as well. Oh lucky me; do they think I'm at fault?

"What did you do Ferret," Potter hissed, answering my question. His wand digs into my skin further, and I slide my eyes over to the bed where my own wand lies. A quick spell and it would be back in my hands so I could at least get this idiot off of me, but I believe that would only raise suspicion. I'm sure the lovely Weasley is just anxious to poke me a few times as well, and I'm really not in the mood to have to try and hex both Gryffindor's and miss the blind girl all at once. No, that seems like far too hard of a thing to do.

"Malfoy didn't do anything," Granger interjected, cutting off any reply I would've had. I raise my eyebrows as her friends turn to look at her, unsure what to do about this new piece of information. And honestly; did these two morons think I have the guts to harm someone like that? Oh, I just can't wait to figure out their reactions when they figure out she's blind! "Malfoy… Malfoy kept me alive."

Weasley's head snaps back around. "What did you give her, hmm? Some strange Dark Potion? Our Hermione would never_ (jab)_ say (_jab_) anything _(jab) _like _(jab)_ that! (_jab_.)"

"Ron-"

"Weasley," I snap, cutting Granger off, "If you poke me with that bleeding wand one more time I will snap it in half."

He jabs me harder in the side. "Try me Malfoy. Your wand is still over there."

A small hand touches the gits shoulder, and he turns to see Granger again. "Ron, please stop. Malfoy didn't do anything wrong."

"Then what's wrong," he asks, searching her face. "Hermione, why the glasses? What's going on? Where's your wand? Lupin came back to Headquarters and told us he had found you here with _Malfoy_ of all people, and at first I didn't believe him. This is one of our safe houses for Merlin's sake, but then he reminded us that Snape brought you here. So what's going on? What did they do to you in that Manor?" He's rubbing her cheek now in what he must think is a comforting manner, but I cannot stop myself from rolling my eyes. Poor Granger; why would she want this bloke's hands on her cheek? She must not be used to physical contact with-

I stop my thought there. I don't know if she is used to being physically active with men, or whether or not it's willingly. It's best to just not think about that topic all together.

She gently shakes his hand off. "That's a lot of questions Ron… and I will answer them too, if we go in the living room. Bring Malfoy too- he was at the Manor, he knows things." I'm sure if she could see the look on her friends faces, she would restate that last comment, but she doesn't, and I am left to deal with the dark glares angled my way. Oh well, at least that's nothing new.

The girl grasps Weasley's hand, guiding him out of the room by memory. I exchange a look with Potter, who just inclines his head for me to follow them. Biting on my tongue, I suppress yet another comment and follow, the morons wand still pressed against my skin.

When this fool goes into shock over Granger's story, I'm breaking his wand just to spite him.

* * *

Had I known that a tale woven about dark tales and terrible occurrences would silence the Wonder Duo, I would've told them about my home life ages ago. Granger finished her story some time ago, leaving out parts like the necklace, Pansy, Blaise and anyone's plans to kill my family. And still, even without those details they have been stunned into silence. Such a long silence…

Never again will I want them to speak, but right now I could deal with it. They have been silent so long I've begun to wonder if they are paralyzed- and that is the last thing we need.

After a _very_ long amount of time, Potter shifts in his seat. "Please tell me you're lying Hermione," he says uneasily. I scoff and relax on the cushion- as far from him as possible of course. Could he be anymore moronic? Granger is no liar; she barely even seemed able to lie to the teachers, let alone her friends.

She shakes her head, looking straight. "Why would I lie Harry?" she asks quietly in return. "What good would that do?"

Potter looks at me, and I glare. Why do they always look at me? But just in that moment the usual anger in his face is absent. "And you helped her?"

"_Helped_ is a strong word Potter," I reply smoothly, not about to admit to anything. This is Granger's story, and she can involve me in it or leave me out of it, but it doesn't matter to me. I'm not about to go anywhere with them as it is; I have people to get back to, and she has these bleeding friends of hers now. We will both be fine going our separate ways, once I figure out how to separate us. "I merely made sure she didn't get killed."

"But why," Weasley growled, drawing my attention. "Why bother? You hate her, don't you? What's the difference between a couple months ago and now? I'm sure your feelings haven't changed that much in such a short amount of time."

"Don't even try to understand my feelings Weasley," I snap in return, leaning forwards in my seat to rest my elbows on my knees; I won't be intimidated.

"I'm just wondering why someone like you would ever help Hermione. It's not in your nature."

I cock my head to the side. "Well why don't you stop being an arse, and try being grateful. Without me she wouldn't even be alive." From the corner of my eye I see her flinch, but it does nothing to make me change my wording; it's the truth and she knows it. "Why don't you take a look beneath those glasses of hers? You won't like what you see, but it'll prove my point. If I had gone on ignoring her, _much _worse things would have happened to her. Be grateful that she is in such good condition."

"Will you three stop talking about me as though I am an object," Granger snaps, drawing us from the little argument. I glance as her, and note that she looks uncomfortable. That's not really what I was trying to achieve; I wanted Potter and Weasley to understand that she was hurt but not as hurt as she could be. The faster they thought they needed to return to their Headquarters, the quicker I could make an excuse to seal my departure. Still, I have learned to tolerate that girl and making her look like some unhappy, blind little child was not on my list of things to do.

Potter reaches over and pats her hand; the action instantly relaxes her. I raise an eyebrow, curious as to whether she relaxed because she knew it was Potter, or if the action had just relaxed her in general. Never would I admit to wondering if she had thought it had been me. I had been around her a lot recently, and she had at least learned to be semi-comfortable around me. But then, it could have been because I was the only one around.

"We'll get you some help," he says, grasping her hand now. She takes this as a sign to stand and does so, not wavering at all; Potter apparently expected her to fall over, if the extension of his arm was any indication. These Gryffindor's are either quite scared for this girl or have always babied her, and considering the fact that she has stepped out on more than one occasion and been the vocal one, I'm willing to guess it's not the latter. Glancing around, I note that the Wonder Duo are still trying to intimidate me with glares; how pathetic. "We will get you back to Headquarters."

There, that. I needed them to get to this moment, this moment when I can plan my escape. I barely register that Granger's body stiffens at the mention of this. Clearing my throat I stand, suppressing an eye roll as the two other boys take defensive stances. "Oh calm down you two. I'm merely going to the bathroom."

Weasley's eyes narrow. "Just a moment Malfoy. There's a bathroom at Headquarters, which you will be coming to with us."

I raise a delicate eyebrow, trying my best to not be rude; that will only make them less negotiable. "Perhaps, but I won't be waiting Weasley; it will just be a moment."

The Weasel opens his mouth to object, but I'm already breezing past him. A quick few steps and I'm down the hall headed there. Behind me, I hear the three bickering, before hurried footsteps follow me. Oh great, now I have a bathroom stalker.

"Malfoy," the voice says, and I'm surprised to hear Granger behind me. From the way her friends have been since arriving, I had suspected that she would be the last one able to follow me. Turning, I narrow my eyes. What could she want?

"Granger."

She's biting her lip, and I wonder why that is. Taking two steps, she is out of view of the living room, and another one brings her to nearly stand on top of me. "I know what you're doing."

"Granger-"

"You're going to leave," she says bluntly, quietly. "There's a window in the bathroom; I know, I can feel a breeze in there sometimes. You're running away."

"Does it really matter to you?"

She bites her lip. "The Order will be angry."

"That's not my problem."

"Your father and Voldemort will be angrier that you lost me."

"That's nothing I can't handle."

She purses her lips again. "You're only going back to help your mother."

Damn this girl, she dips way too deeply into personal topics. "What's your point Granger?"

"The necklace," she breathes, boldly reaching forwards to touch my chest, and it takes a lot of self-restraint to not shy away from her touch. Quickly, her fingers follow the necklace string and come to rest on the pendent she made for a single brief moment. "When you find your mother, use it. Don't stay and waste time. The war is brewing Malfoy; I can practically feel it. Going back will be dangerous enough, so if you plan to survive you should be extra careful."

"Why do you care," I growl, irritated that, yet again, Gryffindor's fucking princess is sticking her nose where it doesn't belong. "Stop trying to give me advice."

She takes a step back. "I'm not sure that I care Malfoy, but I think throwing your life away is a big waste of time." With that, she turns and walks back the way she came, fingers gliding on the wall just as Weasley appears at the end, apparently wondering what had been going on. I just roll my eyes; I will never understand her.

I turn as well and take the last few steps to the bathroom, opening and closing the door. Even now I can still feel the warmth of her small hand against my chest, where she only touched for a brief moment. If anyone knew that she had touched me, I would get hell for having not broken her wrist. But really, this isn't a story I will share. I highly doubt Snape brought us here just so I could turn around and go back.

I let out a heavy sigh; she was right, I am going back, and the less time I waste getting there the better; I can't let her distract me anymore from leaving.

At least this way I avoided having to speak with Potter and the Weasel more.


	20. Chapter 19 H

**Disclaimer:**All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea.

**A/n:**So this week I had some time and decided to give you lovely reviewers an update. I think you deserve it- everyone! Not just the reviewers, but the unnamed readers as well. I really like this story and I certainly know how the next few chapters will go! Hopefully I can get them typed in a decent amount of time. Thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

* * *

I know Harry and Ron are suspicious when Malfoy doesn't return for some time. They have both been antsy; I can feel them constantly adjusting on the sofa and hear them pacing the room. But I already know he's long gone; he never wanted to be here.

Someone's emotions really have to be strong for another person to feel their discomfort. Malfoy may have come off as rude and angry lately, but I think he was scared more than anything; people he cares about could be in serious trouble for his disappearance, and that would put anyone on edge. Harry and Ron were worried about me- it was obvious from the moment I woke up to them this morning- and Malfoy is worried about his mother.

I could never in my right mind deny him the right to help his family; never have I seen Malfoy give a damn about anyone. And I can't even see now- but I can feel the underlying emotions. He's worried about her, and what kind of person would I be if I stopped him, or had Harry and Ron do it? I would be horrid, and that is not something I care to live with; he deserves the right to help his mother of all people.

"I'm going to get him," I hear Ron say, and the soft footfalls that touch carpet tell me he is moving in the general direction of the bathroom. I wonder what they will do when they discover Malfoy has escaped? I suppose they only believed he had no means of escape because I said nothing to them about the window in there, so they had expected a no hassle deal? Now I'm beginning to wonder if I shouldn't have requested a spell from the blond to get them to forget about his presence entirely, but no, that wouldn't be right.

A banging door and sudden, reappearing footsteps cause the pressure on the couch beside me to disappear, and I realize Harry has moved to a standing position at what seems to be Ron's rushed arrival.

"He's gone," my friend says, sounding immensely pissed. That is really no surprise though, considering the ginger's famous temper. "There's a fucking window in there; he must have gone out it."

I hear someone breathe in sharply. "He must have returned to Voldemort then," Harry says, and I admire how calm he sounds. "It's not the unexpected, but we should've foreseen this. Of course he would find a way out to avoid going with us back to the Order!"

There's a silence for a moment, before Ron addresses me. "Did you know about the window Hermione," he breathes, that angry tone still present.

I shrug, attempting to keep the energy in here calm; the last thing any of us need is an angry, cursing Ron. We actually need to get out of this place before people begin suspecting something has happened to the two of them; they must've come from the Order's Headquarters, right? "I have felt a breeze in there before, but never sought out where this window was located; it didn't matter to me."

I actually know exactly where it is located; next to the toilet, high up so air flow doesn't hit you directly. I remember never being able to close the thing because I was too short; Malfoy did that the one night it became cold here.

Why am I lying to my friends on Malfoy's behalf? I could just say I knew where it was and how he got out, but I'm not.

"Of course it didn't," he grumbled, and I heard more shuffling. I can imagine Ron pacing around with an irritated expression on his face.

It's Harry who speaks next. "Despite losing Malfoy Ron, we need to get back to Headquarters. Lupin is bound to begin to worry and with Moody's next plan we need to be ready."

That draws my attention. What on earth is Harry talking about? Before I can ask, a hand has locked around my arm and is pulling to my feet; unfortunately, this causes me to shudder. I really don't like not knowing who is touching me. When there is only one person in the room its fine because there are no other options, but despite Harry and Ron being my best mates it's unsettling to not know which one of them has helped me to my feet. As soon as I shudder, the hand disappears.

"Sorry Hermione," Harry mutters, and I can hear the disappointment in his voice. But is he disappointed in my reaction, or in his suddenness? These two boys are going to take a long time to adjust to my new disability I fear.

A hand wraps tentatively around my own from the other side, and I assume this is Ron. "Can we apparate you or is that bad?"

He sounds like he is walking on glass with me. "It's fine."

I feel him squeeze my hand reassuringly, before engulfing me in a hug. Yes, this is certainly Ron, because he is taller than Harry.

I feel my feet fly out from under me, and prepare to face everyone.

* * *

Never have I known a week to pass so agonizingly slow. The reaction I got upon arriving to the Headquarters was expected; everyone spoke to me like Ron had been; like they were talking to glass. If they thought that being blind was the worst thing that happened to me, then they are wrong. Becoming blind was just one thing on my long list of horrors.

I've taken to staying in my room. I'm not embarrassed about my blindness, or that I haven't really figured out the layout here yet; this is new, there are far more people in this place then there ever were in the dungeons, Malfoy's room or that safe house. It doesn't matter how well I know the layout here, I still crash into people.

And those people already know why. I hate being offered help to get places; I'm not incapable, this is just way out of my comfort zone.

Never before have I felt so useless. Even my friends make me feel that way, although I doubt that's their intention. They offer to help me with _everything_, from walking to pulling my blankets up at night. I can't say I completely regret that I have been avoiding them as well. Besides, there's a war brewing and they should be focused on that and not me. It's not as though I can fight without a wand and eyes. I can't even draw a bloody map. I feel like my ability to help has severely been cut due to everything that has happened.

It's times like these when I find myself missing Malfoy's arrogant attitude. He didn't baby me, which was nice, and if nothing else he felt just as useless as I did- but for different reasons. He couldn't help his mother, and I can't help my friends. But at least now he is hopefully in a situation where he can help her.

I hope he uses the portkey I gave him. I fear that it will be the only thing that will save his life now, considering the predicament he is in involving me and my disappearance.

Malfoy doesn't deserve to die. Perhaps that is the only thing I learned about him.

* * *

"Did it hurt," she asked tentatively, scooting away from me. I could hear the hesitation in her question, as though it wasn't alright to talk to me about this. And in truth, it set my mind on edge and made my heart-rate accelerate to remember these things, but I wasn't about to ignore her question; I knew she was worried enough for me.

"Of course it hurt Ginny," I say, keeping my voice level despite my feelings. "She used a blade to slice through my eyes, and then a spell to ensure I didn't die. It was done out of torture and nothing else."

"I can't imagine," she breathed, and I felt the girls hand come to rest on my cheek. We had talked about my eyes only once before since my return and I was happy that at least Ginny could come to the realization that something awful had happened to me, but the topic itself didn't have to be fully ignored.

"No, you can't," I agreed, not about to sugar-coat anything. Just because I was truthful didn't mean I wasn't completely bitter over what happened. I would never see again, after all.

I suddenly found myself thinking about Malfoy again. I wondered if maybe he knew something to help with my eyes at all. He knew dark magic, right? So there might have been something within those arts to repair what I have lost.

What am I saying? I wouldn't let the git cast a dark spell on me! That may as well be suicide. Oh well, I'm obviously more traumatized then I thought, if that's where my mind is taking me. Shaking my head, I attempt to focus on what Ginny is now saying.

"-nice. But don't worry, Madam Pomfrey is going to be around and she promised to give you something to do-"

"Excuse me?" I ask, confused. I sincerely hope this conversation isn't headed in the direction it seems to be.

A sigh catches my ears. "I was just explaining this Hermione. Moody has come up with a way for us to stage an attack, all the pieces are in place now, and since you are out of Malfoy Manor-"

"What?"

"-since you are out of Malfoy Manor," she continues, talking over me, "we no longer have to worry about who is there anymore. Any of the captured spies are probably dead at this point."

I hadn't been aware of any spies except Snape, and he is still very much alive if I am right. "What are you getting at Ginny? Why are you talking about attacks?"

"Well, we don't want them to surprise attack us, and Harry has said he's ready." Here, I can hear how her voice hitches a bit, and I'm reminded again of her crush on him. But is it still a crush? I haven't even bothered to ask about anything like that since returning. "They want to stage the attack for soon, really soon. I'm not sure when- I don't know a lot of details yet- just that everyone is preparing for this big attack. I'm hoping it works."

I gulp. Now this sounds like a bad idea. And moreover, if Malfoy and his mother are still at the Manor it's a fairly good possibility that they will be killed. Wonderful, now I have something else to worry about. And what did Ginny want me to do? Be some Medi-witch's helper? Well, I'm certainly not looking to be a Healer in my condition; I feel I'm more likely to break something then save someone. I need to really master how to move around this place, picking up assorted items without knocking over others before I ever get close to potions or wands; I don't trust myself.

But I understand where Ginny is coming from; she's trying to be a good friend and include me even in the worst of situations. "I'll think about helping," I say, discarding most of what she had said. Painting a smile on my tired face, I continue, "But I am rather tired. Could I perhaps get some privacy to sleep?"

"Oh of course," she replies, and moments later her arms wrap around me, pressing me against her. I return the hug, surprised by the contact at all. Despite all the pity I get, people tend to not hug me. I suppose it relates back to the glass fear, but this hug is bone-crushing. Why on earth must she hug so tightly?

Eventually, Ginny relents, pulling back to kiss my cheek. My eyebrows shoot up as she leans away. "You're going to be okay," she whispers, as I feel her get off the bed. I don't respond, and moments later the door to this cramped room opens and shuts, leaving me alone.

"_You're going to be okay."_

Well yes, _I'll _be okay because I'm not going anywhere unlike everyone else. What I'm really worried about are my friends.

Strangely, I find my thoughts traveling back to Malfoy again.


	21. Chapter 20 D

**Disclaimer:**All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea.

**A/n:**Hello hello readers! We are back to Draco! Oh, and I made a banner and cover for this story. You can find the full banner on my facebook page (look for the link on my profile; there are a bunch of other links too) and you can see the cover up in the left hand corer representing this story. Anyways, enjoy all you lovely readers, and don't be shy about leaving a comment! Thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

* * *

I can't remember the last time I had this bad of a splitting headache. My father has been unhappy with me since my return, and has thus taken to beating my head in. It's a lovely pastime, really.

Rushing away from that safe house had been easier than expected. I had anticipated at least one of the idiots figuring out what had happened and pursuing me, but no, I had gotten away without seeing eye nor ear of either of them. Of course, getting away and into the Manor was easy; the hard part was explaining to my father why I was without Granger. And he had not taken lightly to my story; I now have the scars to prove how unhappy he was.

But that was nothing. Coming back after only a few days away had not been what I expected at all. I've no idea what my parents did, but it seems that we have fallen even further out of the fucking Lord's favor and now everyone- save Blaise and Pansy- scowl at us during the meetings. My presence is so useless recently that I could probably avoid going all together; that's how much talking I do. But to not attend would be to meet the end of Voldemort's wand, and that's a very unpleasant thought. My father is vicious when it comes to punishment but Voldemort would be absolutely brutal.

Coming back I realized several things have changed here; I have to constantly watch my back. Before I knew that my family- and myself- were not on everyone's good side but now I feel I may just be murdered if I don't watch my back. Its parannoying and I have taken to hiding in my room even more so than before these days. Blaise- and occasionally Pansy- are my only visitors, and I'm glad for that. Up until the time Granger informed me of what she had heard through these walls, I had never noticed how many hateful glares are thrown my way on a daily basis.

I roll over on my bed, hoping to crush my headache with a second pillow. It's been simply horrible adjusting to this place, and every time I get back into the flow of things something changes. I have to watch my mother more closely now for fear that someone will kill her when my back is turned. This is the only other thing besides the meetings that ever draws me out of this room.

I hear my door creak open slowly, and know immediately who it is. The wards on my room make it impossible for anyone to just walk in, but I have allowed three exceptions; my mother, Blaise and Pansy. Considering that mother is off someplace with father and Pansy hides like me, I assume this must be Blaise.

"You look terrible," he says, and I know my guess is right. Scoffing I look up, fixing him with a glare. "What? You can't deny it; you hardly come out of this bloody place and you've stressed yourself out."

I purse my lips. Blaise knows about what Granger told me, about what will likely happen to my family. He knows how stressed and worried I've been, although we have never discussed it. I wish that he could be of more help within this ordeal, help me watch my mother or something, but he has Pansy and himself to watch and it's not fair for me to demand he take on even more.

"Should I not be?"

Blaise only raised an eyebrow. "If you weren't concerned I'd have to hit you a few good times and knock some sense back into your head." He walked swiftly across the room, pausing only to grasp ahold of a chair and drag it with him, so he could sit beside me in it. I look away from him again and resume my appointment with the pillows.

"You've changed," he said, sounding sure of himself. "You pay more attention."

I scoff, raising a hand to give him the finger, hoping he will leave me alone for now. It only draws a laugh from him.

"Oh Malfoy, if only you could see it."

Rolling my eyes, I lift my head just far enough away from the pillows to speak; "What are you going on about Zabini?"

He chuckles again. "You miss her."

I frown, unsure who this 'her' is he is referring to. I just saw my mother earlier today, and I see Pansy often enough. "Who?"

"Don't play stupid Draco; you know who I mean."

Ah, Granger. He had mentioned her on more than one occasion, claiming that I had softened a bit towards people since I had to treat her like a human and take care of her. I beg to differ; I only did it because I did not want to be responsible for her death. I certainly don't miss watching her! It was an absolute nuisance to have to constantly help her.

"I don't miss her."

"But you do; you don't see it yet, because you are denying it, but you miss her company. It's a lonely world out there when you don't have someone's hand to hold, isn't it?"

I smirk, controlling any emotions and sit up. "I could always hold your bloody hand."

There was no amusement in his eyes however. "You know what I mean Draco; you don't have someone to care for anymore. With Granger here you had to step outside your selfish attitude and consider the health of someone for the first time in your life. You may have worried for me and Pansy and your mother, but it's not the same feeling. Granger depended on you because she lost something important, and in return you depended on her to distract you from the war."

I don't respond, and choose instead to watch him closely. This here is my best mate, telling me that a Mudblood was the distraction I needed to be human and learn to care. Obviously, Blaise had gone off the deep end and had started sniffing herbs or something.

I will never say I miss Granger, never. She was a burden! She broke my things and stumbled around my room, always bleeding and sounding so little. The only reason I was even involved was because of my fucking father! I didn't ask to see what they had done to her, and how it affected her. I could've gone my entire life without seeing the torture one human could inflict on another without feeling a single thing.

Granger had been my first close look at what would happen to people- muggles and wizards alike- if Voldemort won this war, and the sad part was that wasn't even full treatment. She didn't suffer completely, because I had to interfere; my heart couldn't stand watching someone being battered into the ground like that. I had barely been able to stand the idea of killing Dumbledore- which had _not _been by my hand by the way- and that was a clean kill. This was torture, and how someone stomached it was beyond me.

When my silence continued, I heard Blaise scoot out his chair. "Why don't you just think on that then Malfoy? I have to find Pansy anyway, I don't trust to leave her alone in this fucking place. Just think about what I'm saying, because you know you are lonely here without someone- without Granger being around to save. You need someone's hand to hold, not just to save them but yourself."

Zabini left me with those words echoing in my mind. It wasn't until he had left and my door had clicked shut- the wards locking it for me- that I fell back against my bed. Blaise could be a great friend at times, but sometimes I think he looks too deeply into the meaning of things. Did it show in my body language that I lacked the help of another? I highly doubt that Granger had the affect on me that Blaise is trying to explain; really, all I ever did was make sure she didn't die.

Lying down again, I fight for sleep. It's not until I have laid there for nearly twenty minutes that I allow myself to realize that I'm still awake because there isn't the sound of soft breathing anywhere in here to fill the empty silence.

* * *

I awake in the morning to insistent rapping on my door. Merlin, what time is it? People really need to use those things called _clocks. _Glancing at mine as I stumble out of bed I realize it's barely four in the morning. This had better be important! Snatching up my wand, I storm to the door, not even bothering to peek out.

The person on the other side is not someone I care to see so early in the day- or ever really. Aunt Bella is looking at me with a critical eye, wand drawn lazily at her side. This can't mean anything good.

"I heard you lost the Mudblood," she said carelessly, and that single sentence jumpstarts my mind. Bella had never really been involved in my father's plan as far as I knew, and shouldn't have known that she had been staying with me at all. Had my father jumped to conclusions and told the entire group of Death Eater's that I was taking care of her until the time came to kill her? It was the only explanation I could come up with, but even to me it sounded unlikely. If all of Voldemort's followers knew that I had let the girl get away, than I would've been well aware of it from the moment I returned, not three days later.

Come to think of it, I haven't even really discussed the topic with my father at all. He just seems to have guessed what has happened. I suppose I should prepare myself for some sort of confrontation with him sometime then.

I am careful about how I answer her blunt statement. "I was unable to keep ties around her for too long before obstacles got in the way."

"Yes, obstacles," she said unkindly, seconds before she hits me hard across the face. I stumble a bit, having expected a magical attack before a physical. Why is that? She steps into the room and I step back, watching her through narrowed eyes as I taste blood. Oh good, those hideous nails of hers really did cut my lip. "They can be nasty to handle." With a flick of her wand, she has my door shut tight.

Oh bloody hell. If she kills me then I hope it is a quick death and not at all like what they did to 'the Mudblood' I lost. I clear my throat, waiting for either her attack or her screams, but nothing happens and it's a time before she speaks again, calmer now.

"You cannot fail like this Draco," she said, keeping her tone short. "The Lord is already irritated with you. Is it your goal to suffer an early death? Because I will tell you, you are doing a fantastic job. Really, just say you love Mudblood's next and you won't need to worry about suicide!"

I blink, surprised. Bella is lecturing me? This is not what I expected after the hit, but is she actually trying to give me advice on how to survive? She must be sniffing something too.

"You need to toughen up; your skills are well beyond your years; you have so much potential. But all of that will be taken away if you cross the Lord once more! He knows nothing of the idea your father created, only I and Rodolphus know; he informed us just after your departure. That plan was flawed from the start and I am surprised that you didn't get killed in the process."

I nod, not following this. When she remains silent again, I clear my throat and speak up. "Aunt Bella? What exactly are you doing here?"

She blinks, giving me a look like I really am stupid. "What do you think I'm doing my boy? I'm going to give you hints on how to survive! Once the Dark Lord wins, you won't need to tiptoe around as much, but until then you are in danger and I don't think I can rightly let my nephew die before he can use his full potential!"

I'm not sure I want to engage in this topic at all, but there really doesn't seem to be much of a choice in the matter. "And what exactly is my potential?"

"Well, to follow your father of course! Lucius's lifeline is drawing to an end as I'm sure you are aware, as is your mothers. Truthfully, I will not assist either of them in surviving; Lucius is far too headstrong and full of his own ideas to fully appreciate what Voldemort is doing for all of us."

"And my mother," I ask hesitantly, not sure I want to know her answer.

She laughs cruelly. "Narcissa? Don't be stupid boy; you should've seen this from the beginning too. Your mother is going to die because of your father's failures- soon no doubt- but I am going to ensure that their prodigy lives on. You alone shall redeem your family's name in the Lord's favor and strive on past this post war era. You alone will carry on your name after Voldemort ends your parent's lives."

I feel the bile rising in my throat. How can she talk about such horrible things so easily? Then again, this is Bella, and I should expect nothing more. She is grinning at me now, that hungry look in her eyes, and I can tell she just can't wait to start teaching me. I gulp, suddenly terrified again.

She tells me to raise my wand, and I comply, my mind a million miles away. How will I save my mother without Voldemort noticing us trying to leave? The port key Granger gave me is a heavy weight around my neck, and I remember her words about not waiting too long to leave this place. Perhaps I haven't used my time wisely.

Maybe I'll find her again when I get my mother away from this place. I don't know what good that will do, but as I dodge a spell sent at me, I remember Blaise talking about me needing someone's hand to hold.

I could really use one right now.


	22. Chapter 21 D

**Disclaimer:**All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea.

**A/n:**Just a reminder that in Draco's time not as much time has passed since leaving the safe house. He's only at day three whereas when we saw Hermione's POV a week had gone by at the end of the chapter. Just a reminder! Thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

* * *

I feel rather sweaty. It's been stressful since my talk with Bella last night about the fates that await my parents. Although I'm not too concerned about what will happen to my father, mother is a completely different story. I can't sit around anymore and waste time. I have to use the portkey and get us out of here before something awful happens like Hermione predicted.

If only there wasn't a meeting this morning, and if only I had been invited to it. The fact that I was not required to attend this meeting worries me; it seems something bad is going to happen, and after my aunt's chilling words I can't help but feel concerned. Is my mother alright?

I've been pacing my room for the past hour. Interrupting would be suicide, and then neither of us would ever get out alive. But I don't know what is happening, and that makes my heart race. Every other person that is currently available and in this Manor has been required to attend, but not me? Why?

If he was going to kill my parents, wouldn't he make me watch out of punishment? That sounds a lot more like Voldemort to me. Tired of pacing, I slump onto my couch, praying I hear no screams. I hope this meeting is not at all related to my parents- my mother.

It's a long time before Blaise opens my door, looking ashen. My head whips around to catch him watching me, his eyes almost holding a frightened tint. I tense, watching him from afar.

"What happened?"

I don't like the fact that once I state my question, he looks away. That's never a good sign. Walking towards him, I speak again, "_What _happened?"

He holds up a hand, using his other to rub tiredly at his face. "Stop, Draco," he groaned, walking away from me to sit on the sofa. When he says no more, I walk over there as well, ready to demand that he explain. Sitting opposite him in the chair, I fight back my wonder and wait for him to speak.

"They're ready to move," he said, speaking slowly. "Voldemort, his army; they're ready to attack Hogwarts. It's bloody mad, considering no one is even thinking about the casualties that will happen on both sides. Voldemort made it clear that he is using some of his followers as no more than targets Draco; he is setting people up to die."

I clench my jaw. "Who is he using as targets," I ask, fearing the answer.

In return, Blaise only raises his hands helplessly. "He didn't say, but he made it a point that anyone here can be used as bait. We might be the crueler side of this war, but that doesn't mean the Order is going to particularly play nice when it comes down to it. They have to survive just as much as we do, and the ones running in first, destroying as much as they can, are the ones that will never have a chance." He shook his head bitterly. "It's a terrible way to stage a war; attacks starting from above the school would do better to weaken the building's wards."

"How do you even know the Order's base is at the school," I ask, thinking that if that were the suspected case father would've sent me back, despite all the hate.

"It's not," he says, and I watch him clench and unclench his hands, "They are attacking it merely because despite the amount of students who have refused to return, there's still a mass amount of innocents there. The Order would never allow us to slaughter students so brutally, and he hopes they will intervene. That's all Voldemort wants; a victory, and he doesn't rightly care who lives or dies for the cause, so long as their side suffers as much as ours will." He rolled his shoulders, and even from where I sit I can see how tense he is. "He's just hoping Potter makes an entrance as well, giving him a chance to win before anymore of those Horcrux's of his get destroyed."

I nod slowly, taking everything in. This idiot plans to stage a mass battle, and soon, on _children _no less. Children, who may or may not have the assistance of turncoat Order members to alert their side early on. I hope there is someone there who can contact the group quickly, for this is a raid I could never participate in. The bastard had lost his bloody mind!

Blaise clears his throat, and I look back at him. "Um, Draco, there's more."

That statement doesn't sound good, and immediately I get worried. What other bad news could he have? "Well, what is it?"

The Italian fiddles with his fingers, obviously uncomfortable. "He called out your parents."

My heart nearly stops; this is going somewhere bad very quickly. "And?"

Zabini purses his lips before he continues. "He called them out Draco, saying he wants them to stand on the front line, out of due respect. Your father, he agreed for the both of them before your mother could even speak. They are the only ones he mentioned; you were not brought up."

* * *

If this was not my childhood home I would probably be quite lost right now. However, this is a place I grew up in, and I know every twist and turn there is. Upon hearing what Blaise had to say, I excused myself quickly, bolting down the hallway all the while ignoring the looks that were thrown my way; I honestly didn't give a shit how strange I looked.

I pause outside a door, banging on the wood lightly. "Mother," I call, glancing around; two Death Eater's stand nearby, one of them leering at me.

"Heard the news, did you," he asks, his teeth coming to rest over his bottom lip when he closes his mouth. "Did you find out what's going to happen to mommy and daddy?"

I have half a mind to hex the bastard- and considering I can't even recall this man's name, it means that everyone in this bloody house must've heard about what Voldemort announced by now- but I don't want to waste the energy. I have something much more pressing to deal with, and putting all my anger behind a few well placed spells would only delay the one thing I really need to deal with right now.

The door opens, and my mother stands behind it, looking both scared and confused. Not waiting for the man to say something else, I shove my way in, slamming the door behind me.

"Draco darling," she says, sounding appalled at my manners. "Just what are you doing?"

Drawing my wand, I bring out an old suitcase from beneath her bed, flicking it at her closet to collect a few garments. "We're leaving," I say, not turning around.

"I beg your pardon? Draco," she scolds, coming to stand in front of me, her eyes wide. She hits my wand and clothing flies everywhere, but she isn't paying it any mind. "Stop that this instant! We are not in a position where we can easily-"

"Mother, Blaise informed me of what the Dark Lord has instructed you and father to do," I say, cutting her off. Lifting my wand again I remove the clothing from the floor and throw it messily onto the already wrinkled pile. When no response comes, I continue speaking. "He's only doing this to us because he is angry about the way so many plans between father and I have turned out; this isn't your fault and you should not suffer for it. If anything, I should be the one forced into the front lines, not you."

"Draco," she cries, looking at me with large eyes. "Don't say that sweetheart, none of this is-"

"I had an assignment to carry out that I failed to fulfill," I say, again cutting her sentence off early. "That's one of the key reasons that he is so upset with the three of us. You rarely ever partake in anything for him, so why should you be made to fight?"

"Draco," she snaps, taking my wand right out of my hand; I don't fight her, just let the slim wood slide from my hands. Tossing it on her bed, she grips my shoulders. "Stop this nonsense right now son; I blame you for nothing. Now stop packing; there is nowhere for us to go. We need to be focusing our attention on other things son, like how to deal with everything that will be coming our way."

I shake my head slowly. "You don't understand," I say, flicking my wand once more to bring a few toiletries forward. They fly into her suitcase as well, and my mother watches silently this time. I think she might be waiting for me to explain, but this ordeal is something I cannot explain in words; how do I explain that Snape is really a spy, and we are going to his safe house for the Order? She would never believe me, or she would be too afraid of what would happen to us if we were to be caught, so I keep my mouth shut. I just want to get my mother to safety.

With everything packed, I manually close the luggage, shrinking it down to fit in her pocket. Holding it out to her, I watch and make sure that the item makes it into her pocket and doesn't 'accidently' miss and hit the floor. Once this is done, I pull the hidden necklace from around my neck, watching her eyebrows draw together as she takes in the odd thing.

"Where did you get a necklace like that," she asks, looking at me with timid eyes. I'm not sure yet that she has figured out just what this is, but she does seem wary of the object. I know, deep down, she cares for my father deeply, but he just can't come along. Lucius is too proud- too bound to the Dark Lord, to not return and get us in more trouble. More trouble would likely mean a torturous death, and that is not something I wish for myself or my mother. My father, well, I already know what he would say and do if I attempted to bring him along as well, and it would endanger all of our safety. That wouldn't be fair to mother.

I grasp her hand, making her hold onto the letter with me. Considering this item has nothing to open, the only thing I can think of to activate it is to pull. Doing just that, I am relieved when I feel the common whirl of apparation setting in, and try to ignore the sudden horrified look in my mother's eyes. I place my other hand over hers so she doesn't let go, my own shrunken luggage now pressing uncomfortably into my leg.

Just a moment before we are gone- for using portkey's is such a fast process that it takes only a matter of seconds- the door to mother's room opens, and I spy the messy black hair of Aunt Bella just before everything outside our circle becomes a blur.

We land in the house, my body giving up and hitting the ground hard. Merlin, it hurts, but at least it forces me to think, something I am sure I would otherwise ignore. Bella had seen us leaving.

I clench the carpet beneath my hands, curse words flying all over the inside of my mind. Fuck, if she saw, then she will report our departure together to Voldemort, and it will rebound hard on my father. He is going to be in a world of pain, and even if I don't particularly love my father I pity him a bit in this moment. Whatever brutal punishment is inflicted on him will be entirely because of me.

Sitting up slowly, I recognize the terrified look in my mother's eyes; she cannot believe we actually left. Looking at her there on the floor, horror spreading across her face, I feel a pang of guilt for giving her such worry. She really does seem to be afraid of where we are, and perhaps who saw us as well. I can only hope that she will understand what I just did.


	23. Chapter 22 H

**Disclaimer:**All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea.

**A/n:** Back to Hermione! What's going to happen? There are banners for this story and many others now on my facebook page, look on my profile to find the link to that and other sites I use (though) less frquently if you want. I also have the first draft done for my one-shot request story, "Forget Me Naught". Enjoy.

Thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

* * *

I am getting nervous. I don't quite know what is happening, but I can practically feel how on edge everyone is. Ginny's words have been ringing in my head for days, and all I can think about is just what everything meant. They were ready to go to war as a group, but what about as individuals? Ron came and spoke with me just this morning and his entire voice had trembled. Obviously, fear is strong within everyone in the Order, as it should be. If they are too cocky about winning, we would surely lose.

That is what terrifies me. Everyone is so confident in some aspects, and so scared in others. I only hope that they aren't going in too early; I love my friends, and I hate being so useless in this situation. I dare not even think about what I will do if they do not come back.

It was odd really, that I have placed Malfoy among my friends and that I worry about him as much as any of them. I shouldn't care, especially considering where we stand against each other in the war, but I can't help it; I do worry for him damnnit. Nothing can change the bit of emotion I am forced to feel now that Malfoy has played such a large part in my escape from the Manor. Without his eyes and his place in that group, I would probably be dead by now, or worse. It was only because of Voldemort's mild interest in the blond that I was able to get the kind of privileges as a captive that I did; the couch in Malfoy's room was far better than the dank, cold floor of the Manor's cells.

I curl my legs up to my chest and rest my head there. I have not been able to talk to my friends as often as usual, besides the incident with Ron. That is bothersome, considering how much I need them. The nights lately have been plagued with images of Bellatrix and Lucius taking away my sight, and the visionless terror that follows thereafter. It is times like that that make me miss Malfoy most, because he had been a kind of steady grounding each time I had those nightmares; at least when I woke up there had been someone nearby who understood and knew what I have felt. My hardships with that place began the moment I was left behind, but he had been consistent for Merlin knew how long.

I bite my bottom lip. Ever since returning, I have had a hard time denying that there is a sliver of bitterness within me that I hold against Harry and Ron. I cannot deny that it has been an accident that I was left behind, that I am the best of the three to be taken, but that doesn't squash my feelings. I wanted something, anything to arrive at the Manor's gates that invoked enough within the place to let me know that I was missed. It would have been risky and probably foolish, but it would have made me feel less neglected. They were planning a war and could not go back for one single person, but it was the loneliness of abandonment that clouded my thoughts the first few days in that cell. Ron had been so close, why didn't he move faster and grab ahold of me as well? Even if Bellatrix had come through and we had needed to fight, it wouldn't have been as bad as what happened, right?

I shake my head, shooing away the thoughts entirely. That wasn't true; if Bellatrix had come through and gotten the upper hand somehow, it could've been horrible. There was no telling what would've happened and if anyone would have survived, considering the mad witch's skill level. But that never happened, and I need not worry about it. What is done is done, and I can only keep moving forward. Besides, if I had not been left behind, I would never have learned that Malfoy possesses a heart.

"Hermione," someone calls, and my head snaps up. It is Ginny, and I had been so lost in my bloody thoughts that I didn't bother registering the sound of the door opening. I can't let that happen, not now when I am fighting to learn how to cope with what has happened. I have to be always alert, even in the safety of this place. If we have a turncoat, or a break in, I have to be prepared.

I will also need to obtain a wand if I plan to defend myself.

"Yes Ginny," I say, straightening myself out. It will only makes matters worse if I appear sad, because then the ginger will pry. It's not that I mind conversing with Ginny, it's that I am bothered by the topics she always brings forth.

"Harry and Ron wanted to talk to you," she says kindly, and I feel a hand rest on my wrist. This is her way of telling me we need to move, as though I am a dog. I hate this treatment, but I just don't have the heart to tell her so. Ginny and Mrs. Weasley have been so good to me since my return, and I can always hear the tremble in their voices whenever we discuss why I am blind, or that I am blind at all. I know they hate it- that somehow they feel guilty for what happened- but it's not their fault at all. They weren't even around when it happened.

"What do they need?" I ask, not giving her my hand. Like I said, my feelings towards my best friends are twisted lately because of what happened, and unless they really have something important to talk about, I feel that I should avoid them. I don't want to spit venomous words their way at a time like this just because I'm bitter.

There is hesitation in her answer. "The war… they are planning to leave tomorrow, to set up some safe camps where people will be waiting to take the injured back here. The war Hermione, it's going to go out with a bang very soon."

Her voice trembles, but it does not compare to the punch I just got in my gut. They are going without me. It's not unexpected now that this happened, but it's all wrong. I have been with them for years, and we were all supposed to go out and fight, together. Now, they are going to go and leave me alone here? It's not fair; I can't even participate in things that I have been planning for since I became friends with Harry Potter.

"I will go see them then.," I respond, brushing her hand off. I stand, hoping I look well enough that my nerves don't betray me. I am so concerned with everything that is happening that I don't want to worry them, even if I feel the sadness creeping up my body. I want to help. "Where are they?"

"I can take you-"

"I'd rather walk alone," I say, trying not to sound mean. I know that everyone gets nervous when they see me walking alone, because I can hear it in everything they mutter by the tone of their voice, but I know the layout fairly well now and I want to find it myself.

I think she nods, but I'm not sure. "They are in Harry's room."

"Thanks," I reply, before brushing past her. It's kind of rude, but I can't help myself. I need to walk alone for a moment.

Entering the corridor and finding Harry's room is easy. It's down the hall, fourth room on the left. I only bump into one person on the way, but my mind is spinning. They can't go.

I knock quickly on the door, hoping that I am heard. A moment later I hear the nearly- silent sound of a door opening and a startled step back. "Oh, Hermione- I thought Ginny was bringing you?"

"I am capable of walking down the hallway by myself Ron," I say, and when I hear him take a few more steps I walk into the room. Just as I suspected, he has moved aside so I can get in, and I walk the six steps to his bed. I brush against Harry's leg, and move a bit over so I can sit down myself. Once seated, I feel the opposite side of me sink down and know Ron has come to sit as well.

"I'm glad you're back," Harry says slowly, and I know where this is going; he is trying to sugar coat what is coming.

"Harry," I say, cutting in, "You don't have to go to all these lengths. I know what you're going so say, and being nice beforehand won't change the outcome."

It's quiet for a moment following what I say, and I wonder what they are thinking. "I wish you were coming with us," Ron says slowly, and he grabs my hand, squeezing it lightly. I am glad he is trying to be nice, and not hot-headed like usual. "I know you always wanted to be with us when it came down to the final battle."

"But that can't happen," I reply. "I don't have a wand, and I have no idea how I would aim without being able to see. It would take practice, practice that I don't have time for, and I realize that and I have to accept it, even if I don't want to." I really don't want to.

A bigger hand clamps around my other hand, and I know this is Harry; bigger hands smaller frame. "I wish it hadn't happened like this."

"People always say that, but you can't change the past."

Its silent then, and I hope they don't take my statement to literally. I have accepted that they couldn't help me- that what happened was going to happen- but that doesn't make it pleasant.

Ron pulls away and I can hear him stand up. "It's not like we tried to leave you. I couldn't do anything Hermione!"

"Ron, I don't think she meant anything like that," Harry says, jumping to my defense, but after everything I can defend myself just fine.

"I know there was nothing you could do Ron, it happened too fast, but that doesn't really help me in the aftermath of what happened; it doesn't make it easier, you know? Nothing is really going to."

It was quiet for a moment on Ron's side. "Do you blame me?"

"Excuse me?"

"Do you blame me, for what happened? Do you blame me for leaving you behind?"

"I blame the circumstances that led to it," I reply, fighting back what I want to say. I don't want to cause a rift just before they go off to fight; it will be hard enough to let them go in general, not even adding that on top.

He heaves a sigh. "I blame myself," he says, and I can hear him walking around. "I have been since the moment I knew you hadn't come through."

"Don't place guilt on yourself; it will only make you feel worse."

"I already feel bad," he snaps, "I have felt horrible. I can't ever excuse what happened."

"Nor can you change it."

He sighs again, and I feel a hand come to rest on my shoulder, squeezing lightly; Ron again. "I know, and I won't forgive myself for that," he breathes pulling away. I open my mouth to reply but hurried steps tell me he is leaving, and the door slams open before I have time to reply. Ron has left.

Harry rubs my hand softly. "Don't worry about him Hermione; I'll make sure he is alright." Those words chill me, for I remember the task Harry has ahead of him; how will he possibly have time to worry about what Ron is doing?

My friendship is coming apart right now over one event, and I can only hope that there will be time when the war is done for us to talk things through under better, less stressful circumstances.


	24. Chapter 23 D

**Disclaimer:**All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea.

**A/n:** Here we go with some Draco… and I think you guys will really enjoy this chapter! Also, check out my new, published one-shot called "Forget Me Naught"; it's an angst kind of tragedy story too and it's super long so you might enjoy it :) Thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

* * *

I have no idea where to go from here. Mother is in the room I shared with Granger, still in shock. We are here now in this damn safe house away from anything and anyone that may hurt us, but what good is it doing us? We've been here a whole bloody day and nothing has happened, no one has come to find us. Doesn't this thing have a bleeding alarm or something so we don't end up stuck here forever?

_Great idea Granger; thank you for the escape, but being stuck in an empty, isolated house is not that much fun. Couldn't you have sent along a tracking signal or something?_

I'm sure Granger is dealing with enough. All I know about the Order's headquarters is that it is huge and must have a lot of residence, meaning that her condition is probably known to everyone who is associated with the place, and knowing Granger she probably doesn't like that. Moreover, she is probably irritated trying to manipulate herself through those fucking crowded halls.

I shake my head. I really know nothing about the Order headquarters at all, so why am I even bothering to think on it? And why does Granger always cross my thoughts? I would say that I am lonely and am in need of some company, but my mother is here, even if she doesn't really talk to me.

I know why she ignores me; she misses father. He has beaten her down to a withdrawn, terrified person over the years and I know that in her mind she is trying to figure out how to get away and return to my father- because he has whipped her own identity so far out of her mind these days that she tries to help me, only to fall prey again to his fake words and harsh methods- but that can't happen. If mother escapes back to the Manor, my entire reason for going back will have been wasted, and moreover, she would probably die. If Lucius isn't already dead on the floor, he would be when my mother returns without me. No, she has to remain here beside me until someone comes to get us; if that means that I have to magically lock everything in this place. She is so persistent to go back, and it hurts my heart a bit. Why does she demand to go back to someone that is so horrible to us, and let all these terrible things happen to our family? I just don't understand.

Twirling my wand in my hands, my thoughts trail back to Granger again. I know that she is blind, but aren't there cures for what has happened to her? I mean, I am no expert when it comes to healing spells- more defense spells than anything- but there is probably a solution to this, just one that I would never be able to administer to her. Perhaps she is no longer blind at all, perhaps some talented Healer on Potter's side fixed her right up, and she has already forgotten about me and the fact that she gave me the portkey to come here.

Damnit! There I go again, thinking about that girl. She is a constant cloud in my mismatched thoughts. One moment I am focused on something dire, and the next I'm thinking about her again. This really can't be healthy.

Stumbling footsteps catch my attention, and I look up from my position on the sofa to see mother stumbling past me only to sit down on the nearby chair. She has been beaten down since the first time she saw me with Granger and stopped us in that hallway outside of the dungeons, telling me to put her back so Lucius would not harm me. My father is brutal, but I worry more for her. When I took her away from the Manor she tried to be dependent, declaring that we didn't need to run, but I know that isn't true. We needed to get away, and now without Lucius constantly watching her, mother's confidence has wavered and she seems entirely unsure of what to do. How have I been so blind to how hurt she has been? Lucius really made my mother into this unsure ghost? It's quite sickening to watch how quickly she declined and sank into herself. I only wish I could get her some better help.

When she says nothing for a moment, I clear my throat and speak. "Would you like some water," I say, unsure what she really needs. Her only response is a slow, uneven shake of her head, and I inwardly sigh, wishing that I could do something for her. Why can't I get ahold of Granger; why is this place so bloody isolated?

I'm antsy; I need to be able to help her. Muttering a string of curse words, I shove myself up, forcing myself to try and deal with the things happening. I brush past my mother to the front door, opening it up so I can step outside. The air is cool, the world calm. This is a small, innocent patch of earth among the brewing war. I wonder how long it will last before someone from Voldemort's side discovers it.

I rest my head in my hands, wishing I could do something. I need out of here; I need somewhere I can take mother. Fuck it, if I had any knowledge of the muggle world at all I would take us there, but muggle studies class was never my strong point and I would be a fish out of water in that place. No, I can't do that.

An idea clicks in my head; will she fight? If she doesn't, then this idea might just work after all, otherwise this could cause a lot of mishap. But, I'm desperate, and although this is not my strong suit I must try it, for it is all I can think of.

Pulling out my wand, I clear my throat; Potter was the first student of our age to master this talent- defending himself of course- but that doesn't mean the rest of us never learned. I love mine actually.

When I speak it's with a clear strong voice; "Expecto Patronum." The silvery white magic slips from my wand, taking form. I watch without interest as it takes on the proper form of a snake, before I speak again. "Granger, I took your advice; I'm here now. So what do you suppose I do from here? I need help." I watch the long form slither off, before it disappears entirely out of my vision.

Now I just have to wait and see if Granger receives that message at all.

* * *

Bella is angry. She sent an owl our way, and I am only thankful that I blocked the barriers from owls, so they have to stop at the wards. The bird had a tracking charm on it, and I hexed it from a distance to disorient it and make it fly around for a while before it returns again. Taking the note attached, I open the parchment and read the woman's messy handwriting.

_Draco~_

_What did I tell you the other day? Ah yes, if you remained in the Lord's favor you could be one of his favorites! Now look what you are doing; you took your mother away, and now not only is our Lord pissed but so is your father! Wherever you are, get back here this instant. I was not going to spend the time to train you so you could fuck up and run off to help the Order- or are you just running boy? Stop taking a bloody cowards stance and get the fuck back here with your mother and face the consequences; then you can rebuild yourself in the Lord's eyes once that is over with!_

_I saw so much potential in you boy! You would've gone far; you would've had a luxurious life once Potter was killed! But no, you run, like a coward with your mother and don't even write! What's wrong with you boy? You haven't been the same since that Granger girl was here. Did you let Potter's Mudblood change who you are? _

_Get back here!_

_~Bellatrix_

I crumble the note. Those bloody owls can always find you, even when their owners do not have the ability to. I will have to set something up so any future birds from the Death Eater's do not even stop here; I will not bother reading another note like this. Besides, Bella demanding that I return is completely out of character. I have never seen that woman care about anyone else besides Voldemort- her husband is even neglected! She might be helping me, but I fear that it is for her own personal gain. Spells are nice, but what was she playing at? I don't want to be on that side period.

I rest my head back on the couch cushion. I sent my patronus yesterday to Granger, so maybe she never received it at all. This place is beginning to feel more like a cage than a safe house.

* * *

It's another two days before anything happens. I have gone through the same boring routine throughout those days, minus the owl from Bella, and the sudden change jerks both I and my mother back into reality.

It doesn't happen in the way I expected. If anything, I expected her to send a patronus or a note or something back, but no, instead, Granger herself stumbles through the fireplace blind as ever, nearly tripping and smacking her head on the coffee table; my mother surprisingly saves her from the concussion.

"Granger," I ask, startled by her appearance. When she jerks out of the unfamiliar grip in fright, I place a hand on her shoulder. "It's alright; that's just my mother. What are you doing here?"

It's only then that I account for the red, bleeding lines on her shoulder and realize the girl is wounded. Cursing- an act that causes mother to cringe- I grab her opposite arm and haul her into the kitchen, mother following in our wake.

The girl seems to be in shock, and I wonder if she has even registered by this point that it's me that's talking to her. It's only when I rip the sleeve of her shirt that she responds to me, the disinfectant causing her to hiss as she speaks.

"Malfoy?"

"Yes," I reply, resisting the urge to roll my eyes as I tap her shoulder, healing the gashes. "What exactly happened to you?" I can see my mother over her head watching us with the strangest look, but it's something that I will not worry about right now.

She gulps, and I already have an idea of what she is going to say before she even speaks. "We were planning to attack you- Voldemort's side I mean. The army went out, leaving few at headquarters. They… they snuck spies in… somehow, people got in, and they started killing us."

I figured it had something to do with Voldemort. It's just like him, attack wherever is easy. But from the expression on Granger's face I get the feeling that this was an attack on a lot more than just fighters.

"They were killing everyone Malfoy; I couldn't even find my way around. I got your message, but… I couldn't respond. I was too busy helping explain to people how to do things, people that were in panic. And then they came and… someone shoved me through the fireplace and sent me here."

I frown. That must've been someone from her side, but from what I gathered from the few people who have come here not a lot of Order members seem to know of this place. So who helped her?

The thought leaves my mind when she breaks down crying. Great, now I have a confused, stumbling mother and a sobbing Gryffindor. Could the day get any better?

Well, so long as the war doesn't come here, I suppose we have some time to sort things out. Maybe the shock will go away and Granger will be able to discuss things logically with me again.

* * *

**A/n: **Tada, they met up! Next chapter we see Hermione's perspective on what led to her getting there :) Leave a review since I updated early darlings?


	25. Chapter 24 H

**Disclaimer:**All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea.

**A/n:** Another fast update! Are you guys proud of me? For another sad, tragedy/angst type of story, please see my new story and one-shot, "Forget Me Naught". Thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

* * *

I already know something bad is going to happen. I can feel it in the pit of my stomach. This morning I woke up and was informed that everyone had set out for this attack. They left in the night; I didn't get to really say the goodbye I would've liked to, but I did get a goodbye into everyone that left. That is the important part, for me to have spoken with each of them. I know I will speak with them later on- for they _can't_ die- but it would still have been nice to have given them a proper farewell. And they didn't even warn me!

It's irritating, but for now I can't worry about it. Everyone is on edge, and from what I have noticed no one seems to be calm here at headquarters. I want to help, but the few Healer's who have remained behind don't have time to look at my eyes right now, for my situation is currently not _dire_. People can be so useless sometimes.

I've spoken with Professor Snape, for he returned to the hideout again. He came to find me, informing me that Draco Malfoy had _peculiarly _disappeared with his mother. By the man's tone of voice, I knew he didn't believe this was circumstantial. He was too smart to place his trust in something like fate.

So Malfoy used my gift and returned to the safe house? Well, is he still there? If I knew that, I would probably already be gone from this place to find him. It's no use having someone like that in a safe house when they could be so useful here at Headquarters to inform us of anything they knew- Draco and Narcissa both. But for now I have other things to attend to, like bothering everyone to secure this place again. It might be safe, but now that we have launched an attack, I fear for its wards.

I can only think about what Harry or Ron would want as I go about carrying out this task. They have always wanted me to be safe- Ginny as well, although I have been unable to locate her thus far and haven't bothered to ask around- and they would want this place as secure as possible. Not just for me, but for everyone here.

When will I hear from them again?

* * *

I am wandering down a hallway when the first scream pierces my ears; it's high and pained, and for a moment following the noise this entire place is strikingly silent. It sends shivers down my bones. I have just begun to process what must be happening, and have stumbled to a wall, when another scream catches my ears, and then everything is happening at once.

It starts with the screams- both of pain and from people shouting spells- and then someone has jumped upon me and has me pinned to the floor. I can't see, have not dealt with a situation quite like this under these circumstances, and panic takes over. I struggle, attempting to strike at my attacker, but it appears to do little good. I can hear the twisted, sick laugh above me and I bite my lip as a wand is pressed against my head.

"I remember you darling; that Malfoy boy let you free. I suppose it was all for nothing though now, wasn't it?" This voice is familiar, one that I recall from the Manor but only heard on rare occasions. Merlin, I _know _this man lying on top of me, and I can't even figure out quite who he is? Now this is entirely unfair.

And then there is dead weight on top of me, and the pressure of the wand against my forehead turns to a burn as the wand skitters and rubs my skin like a rug rubs a person when they slide against it. A strange effect, but this pain is minimal compared to the sudden crushing weight on top of me.

The weight disappears a moment later and I am being forced to my feet. "Hermione," someone says, grabbing my shoulders, and I realize its Ginny. But didn't she leave with Harry and Ron? I thought that was the plan? "Are you alright?"

I nod once, so confused by these twisting events. What is going on? How did these alleged Death Eaters get in? Did Ginny save me or was that someone else? Fuck, I need to learn how to listen to my surroundings better!

"Good," the ginger says, sounding relieved. Then she is shoving me against the wall, and a moment later it gives way; a door, so we must have just entered a room. Circe, I am so disoriented. "Hermione, you have to get out of here."

"Everyone does," I reply, knowing where this is going. She is attempting to get me out first, all because of my _disability_. That is always the thing people pay the most attention to these days, but I will not have it right now. "Ginny, don't you even! Everyone needs to get out of here, not just me. Go and help the others, I will hide, or floo away so you can help out everyone else here. Don't start focusing solely on me, I am one person. There are a lot of people here, and in case you are currently missing those screams outside, they need help." I can feel the tears from all my stress slipping down my face as I speak; Merlin, I am stressing out over what _Ginny _is going to do next when she should be able to move on without instruction. "Stop standing in here and go fight, just like you always told Ron and Harry and I. You always wanted to fight for something good, which is what you should be doing now instead of talking to me. Go now; you're wasting time."

I hear no footsteps and know she hasn't' moved. "Let me get you out of here," she says, grasping my hand painfully, pulling me somewhere else in the room. "Let me get you to one of the safe houses, and then I'll-"

"I can walk myself to a floo," I say, wretching myself from her grip. "Merlin Ginny, just go out and help. What is wrong with you? I have never heard you sound so afraid before."

There is a pause, and in this silence I hear the screams outside, and the pounding on the door to this room; someone wants in, which means we both need to get out.

"I have to save someone Hermione," she finally says, and I am surprised by the tremor in her voice. "Harry and Ron went to kill him, and there is nothing I can do anymore to ensure their survival. But you're still here; you're still someone I can help. And damnit Hermione, they _wanted _me to help you, so that is what I am going to do." She grabs my hand again and continues to try and move me.

"Help everyone; don't worry about just me."

I can feel her shaking, and her grip has slackened some on my wrist. Maybe I can get away and make her help, since I am of little use without a wand or eyes. "I have to help you though! I have to do something for you! Look what happened the last time you were left against them; what if that happens again? What if it's Harry or Ron this time? What if it's me that falls into their hands? Hermione, don't push me away. I just want to help." I hear a scream just outside, and cringe. What kind of locking spell did this girl use? "I have to help you, because I can't imagine letting this happen to someone else again."

Behind me, I hear something sickening; the door has been broken through. I spin around only to be thrown into the floor from a force behind me- Ginny. Spells above me are shot this way and that, but I am hardly registering them in my frenzy to regain my footing as more footsteps catch my attention. Who has come to join this battle, someone from my side or theirs?

A form shoves me to the side, and I feel the heat of a spell warm my cheek as something barely misses me. Half a second later something behind us shatters. "Get out," Ginny hisses, and I can feel my mouth getting dry. What about her? "Get out now!"

"Ginny," I hiss, but she has shoved me again, and I stumble back against something- a fireplace. In my stumble I catch my shoulder on the uneven stone, slicing the skin. It burns, but I hardly notice. Another hand is already present on the scene again, reaching forwards to grip my hair. I scream as my hair is ripped from my skull, awaiting the next blow.

It doesn't come. Someone intercepted the attack. Who else is here now? Before I even have time to question it, I feel sprinkles of something attack my hand; powder. I throw the remaining dust off of me, ready to yell stop when a voice stops me.

"Do not fight it Miss Granger; there are people picking sides in order to save the few of you here; accept help where it is offered."

Snape; he's back. I try to reach for him, to beg him to help, but the next thing that is whispered stops that. "Safe house five," he hisses, and I feel the ground disappear from under me. Shit, now how will I know what happened?

* * *

It's later when I sit on the porch outside of this calm place, the wounds on my shoulder having been healed by Malfoy. It's impossible for me to be here now, to be so close to someone I sent away to save his mother, only to suffer at my own expense. For now, I am not even certain who is left alive, and that has me on edge. How did he remain so calm while speaking with me?

After healing the wounds, we spoke briefly. He asked me what had happened, and I summarized what I could to him. When asked why no one had bothered to look at my eyes, I told him the same thing the Healer's had told me. I didn't know if Ginny or Snape were among the dead just that some people had to of died in that raid, and that the sounds from the first scream had been sickening. He seemed to get the point after this that I wasn't in the best place to talk, and let me be. I stumbled out here a few minutes later.

My bottom lip trembles. How did everything happen so fast? It seemed that both sides had the same idea; it was time to attack. But why didn't Snape warn us of this? I barely got to speak with him, and before I hadn't known what was to come. This was the first time I had heard him since arriving back at headquarters, but he could've told everyone what to expect. Maybe the best fighters would not have gone off to war at that time, and there would've been more people around to fight. I'm certain it would help.

The tears slide down my cheeks, and I turn and hit the railing nearby. It's unfair; I have to know what happened to my friends, yet going back could be suicide. What if we don't even have a headquarters anymore?

The door opens, and I know I am in for company, although I don't need anyone to tell me who. Really, would Narcissa come out and speak with me? I think not.

He pats my shoulder once as he sits down. There's a pregnant pause between us before he speaks. "I have something to talk to you about Granger."

"So speak," I say, and I realize how awful my voice sounds. He however, seems to be trying to ignore it.

"I have a house- a vacation home really- in France. Mother wants us to go there if we are fleeing, instead of staying here. It would need to be warded, for father still has access to it as well of course, but its safe-"

"What are you getting at Malfoy," I interject, feeling on edge. What is he suggesting?

The boy beside me sighs. "I was going to suggest this before, but there were other factors removing the idea entirely. It's safe over there Granger; the countries have been careful to keep the war secluded to only England. I believe my mother means to go, and I may as well, but I was going to offer you the choice as well."

"The choice of what?"

"Well, the choice to come along and escape this mess of course."


	26. Chapter 25 D

**Disclaimer:**All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea.

**A/n:** And yet another chapter! I am currently on a roll :) Don't forget to check out my facebook page (the link is up on my profile along with others) and my new story "His and Her Bruises" along with the one-shot "Forget Me Naught". So many things you can look up, but of course you don't have to :D Enjoy the chapter! Thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

* * *

"Escape," she says slowly, and it seems like forever since one of us had spoken. I wish she wouldn't always sound so appalled by my ideas; it gets annoying. "You're thinking of running away?"

I resist the urge to snort at her idea. "That's preposterous Granger; I can't be running away if I take my mother with. There is nothing to gain from the coming battle, for either side. If Voldemort wins, it will be a torture brought upon us all, even his followers. If Potter wins people like me will be tried in court, and since I'm not exactly London's favorite person, it wouldn't go well for me. I'm not saying we're running away, or even that it would be forever, just that it might be a way to escape the problems here for a while." I flip my hair, moving the fallen fringe from my eyes. "I didn't mean anything bad by it."

"You would be leaving _everything _Malfoy; you do realize that? People in the future will remember that you ran away from this fight, to live in the luxury of a home in another country."

My eyes narrow and I wish she could see, if only so she could realize how annoyed I am. "Granger, not everyone had this unruly urge to jeopardize their lives like you do. You might think there is something to be gained by remaining here and trying to help, but I would not be the first, nor the last, wizard to leave. You can be accepted into other countries, so long as they are permitted to examine you and ensure that you are not sneaking into the country to cause additional problems. France will allow mother and I in because we have a home there, and without Lucius we are not nearly as terrifying. That oaf Dumbledore may have been a legend, but my reputation is not as… famous in France as it is in London. You need only agree to come and it's done."

She hesitates a moment in her answer, as though she can't decide exactly what she wants to respond to first. "Why?" she sighs, rubbing her head. "Why do you offer to take me? Why do you care? There are so many other people you could bring along instead- like Pansy or Blaise."

"I have no way of contacting them. And as it is, one will not leave without the other. Trust me, we tried to get Pansy away from the Manor some months ago, and she promptly refused to leave unless Blaise accompanied her. It's sick really, how clingy they are."

"No, it sounds nice," Granger counters. "Wouldn't you want someone who would always be by your side no matter what?"

I raise an eyebrow, looking over at her again. "Sounds more like a burden."

She only shook her head. "If that's how you see it."

It grows quiet again, and I examine my nails during this time, just knowing that she will ask more questions; this is Granger after all. I have taken classes with her for enough years to know that she is persistent whenever she wants to understand something.

"So why me then? You didn't have to offer." There it is.

I shrug, momentarily forgetting that she can't see that. "I think you've been through quite a bit Granger, and I think you need a break from this disaster."

"You know I would never leave my friends in this mess, and it would be even worse if I promptly abandoned them for you." I can hear the tension in her voice as she mentions those Gryffindor's she is so close with.

I sigh, standing. I believe Granger has an excuse for everything. "If you say so Granger, but I wasn't offering just to be nice either. You are so focused on fighting in this war- helping, if I have gathered anything- and I only assumed that you would like to have the best chance possible. At least in France we could locate someone to fix those eyes of yours. The Healer's on the Order's side might be too busy, but there is nothing going on in that land right now."

She shudders at my words, and I know I have struck a chord. I am hitting her where it's the most sensitive; this girl would give anything to protect her friends. It would certainly be difficult to escape the country- though I will never admit that to her- but I have no plans of staying here. So what if I am declared a coward? Perhaps I will simply never return.

An image of my best mates, Blaise and Pansy, snaps into my head, and I have to shake the image off. They have each other; they will be fine, right?

When it's obvious that the girl is lost in her own thoughts, I turn away. It's best to give her some time to think about things. Even if she doesn't agree to come with, I feel that my time here is drawing to a close.

But why?

* * *

"I heard you talking to that Mudblood."

I lazily look up, catching sight of my mother. She is toying with her own fingers, something I have never seen her do. The once proud, confident woman seems shy beneath my gaze, and I am only her son. But she has been this way for days now, and I should be used to it.

"Of course I was talking to her," I say, shutting the book I had been reading. It was dull, and I do not mark my place. "I was asking her about France."

"I don't want her coming," she says slowly, clutching at her shawl. "If your father came, if he saw-"

"Father won't come," I snap, bowing my head. I knew he had to be involved in this conversation somehow.

"But if he does-"

"He won't," I say again, looking up once more. "He is too involved in his war, in his beloved place among the Death Eater's, for him to jeopardize his ranking. We might be his family, but we are not important. We are leverage; devices that could be used for personal gain." When I notice her expression beginning to crumble, I stop myself. The last thing I want to do is break my mother's emotions over a marriage she cannot break free from. Standing, I run a hand through my hair. "He isn't the same anymore; he is not who he used to be."

"None of us are," she says, and I can see her eyes watering. Merlin, father really did have a tight hold on her. With a sigh, I step towards her, clasping her shoulder. If I hug her, she might break entirely. Hugs are rarely accepted in this family, and if I give her one it is only going to highlight the severity of our situation, and I need mother to remain strong until I can get her out of this dangerous nation.

"It'll get better," I say, and she gives me a plastic smile at my words. We both know they are just that, words; something used to give us the belief that something can still go right in this time. But how can it, when we have had to run away from home, from a clan of rogue killers, and a madman? It's certainly not alright, but you don't tell an upset person that. "We just need to make sure we understand what we have to do in order to survive."

"And what about your father," she asked slowly, looking at me with complete seriousness. I have to bite my lip so I don't snap at her.

"He will find his own means of surviving," I say, not at all certain that this is true. But it makes my mother smile softly, and that is all I really wanted for now. So long as she has something to hold onto, it'll have to do. I squeeze her shoulder one more time before letting go, and she accepts this as a reason to turn back the way she came. I remain in the same spot until the door to the bedroom closes.

I sigh. Why do I have to be the mature one here? She should be the one making me feel better, not the other way around.

* * *

The next time I speak with Granger, it is dark outside and she has come to sit with me in the living room. We are both tired I know, and I told her to go sleep on the other bed in the bedroom, but she promptly refused. So here we are, one of us in the chair the other on the couch, hoping to find a means of sleep.

It's not working. I am flipping around on the chair, attempting to find a comfortable position when she speaks.

"You should send your mother away."

I snap my head up. "Granger, don't get bitchy. I have the control here, the ability to send you wherever I please; you don't even have a wand. Do you really think it's a bright idea to tell me to send my _mother _of all people away?"

"I don't mean it in a bad way," she says, and in the candlelight I can see her sit up. Rolling my eyes, I join her in the vertical position. "I mean… she seems tortured. Keeping her in England won't do her any good, no matter how long she is separated from your father. She needs to just get away."

I purse my lips. "You heard us talking earlier when I thought you were still outside, didn't you?"

"The window was open," she replied, tossing her hair behind her shoulder. "It is silent outside; your voices carried to me. I wasn't trying to listen."

"But from that statement I presume that you heard all of it?"

She nods once in the dim light. "Yes."

I bite my lip. "So your idea of mental aid is to send her off- alone- to a foreign country- where she can spend father's money and ignore everything that is happening?"

The girl shrugged. "She might need someone to accompany her, but I do not believe it should be you or I."

"And why exactly is that?"

She shrugged, turning her head away. "It would be nice to see again Malfoy- really- but there are more important things out there right now. I can't leave England, because despite my handicap I have people who need me too. You can't contact anyone who is outside of England anymore, which means my friends may presume me dead. I can't leave them with that feeling of uncertainty. Although I would prefer a different alternative, I would rather remain confined in this house, able to still have people find me, than to run away."

I look away from her, even though she can't see me. She certainly knows how to make me rethink the things I have said. Still though I can't get the idea of an easy way out, out of my head. It's so tempting.

"You want to stay because of the possibility that you can help others?"

"I will always stay for that reason; this is my war too, so I should remain to help see it through."

I purse my lips again. "Shouldn't you worry about what it will do to you as well? Staying could be fatal for you, since you seem incapable of fighting for your own life."

"I could fight, if I only knew how to in this situation."

"Perhaps."

We are quiet for a moment, and I enjoy this silence. It's a short break from a rather heavy topic concerning what this bloody girl believes should happen to my mother. Her viewpoint isn't too important to me, for she won't be the one convincing mother to go away without me, but she is interesting to listen to. Her ideas are so different from mine that it gives me a different perspective on my own thoughts, even if I don't agree with her ideas.

"Malfoy," she says, breaking the silence. I glance in her direction, and apparently my silence is enough for her to believe it's alright to continue. "Who would you miss if you left?"

"Excuse me?"

"Who would you miss if you left? Theo? Pansy? Blaise? Crabble?"

I shrug "I suppose I would miss the majority of them. Why does it matter to you?"

"Remember what you are proposing," she said, tucking her hair behind her ear once again. "You are judging me for remaining behind because of the emotional ties to people I know and care for, but have you considered who you would be abandoning as well?"

Instead of answering, I look down. No, I hadn't considered that at all. My mother is my first priority right now, but I cannot deny that a few of those people listed are people I actually care about. The bloody girl is right; I would be saving myself at the expense of not helping them at all.

When I look back up, she is reclined once more. This is obviously what she wanted; for me to think. Slowly, I relax back against the uncomfortable chair again, closing my eyes.

Damn her, its working; now I have to fucking reconsider.


	27. Chapter 26 H

**Disclaimer:**All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea.

**A/n:** I will let you guys know right now, this chapter is not my best. It's a filler at most. Why? Because I needed a development chapter. I struggled writing this because I couldn't get anything out that was good. So I wrote this sort of to transition things, so please let me know what you think! This was quite hard for me to write, and I haven't had this problem in a while :( It sucked. Thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

* * *

"I would miss Blaise and Pansy."

I snap my head up at these words. I know Malfoy has been there for a while, but I didn't expect him to actually speak. It's daylight I suppose- has probably been for a while I assume- and due to the warm heat on my back, I guess it's around noon. So few hours have passed since we last spoke; it's just like back at his Manor, when I stumbled around and we spoke rarely. Only now I know the layout of this place, and the stumbling has ceased quite a bit.

"What?"

"The answer to your question from yesterday- who would I miss? I would miss Blaise and Pansy, but that's it. No one else on Voldemort's side means shit to me."

His answer is surprising. Not because he had stated that he hates that side, because I have heard the bitterness in his tone towards them on more than one occasion- but because he actually said Voldemort's name. I think that is the first time he ever has.

"All those people mean nothing? Even Theo, and Goyle-"

"None," he snaps, cutting me off. "Don't think you know anything about my life Granger; you have only been witness to a smidge of it. There are elements that you will never understand; that I never plan to share. Let's just say I've had a falling out with Crabbe and Goyle, and Theo and I were never close to begin with."

I can believe that; I have seen Theodore Nott on few occasions, and they were all from a distance. Never have I seen him lingering near Malfoy though, and I think I know why. Malfoy has always been prestigious in the wizarding world, with his charming father being so well known, even if his reputation was dark. For a while in Slytherin everyone wanted to be near the blond, and I fear this was around the time he received the Dark Mark; he was young. But Nott always seemed to cast a dark, demanding shadow- just like Malfoy- and I think they were both attention hogs. No, their personalities would not mix well. But instead of voicing any of this, I tilt my head to the side. "So you have been thinking about what I said last night?"

I hear him scoff. "Does it matter?"

Shrugging, I refuse to give away my opinion on the matter. "I was merely curious."

"Well, to crush your curiosity Granger, I _have _thought about it but I don't plan to share my thoughts with you. I would much rather discuss things with my mother."

"Then why don't you," I challenge, raising an eyebrow behind my glasses. His tone carries that childish, snippy attitude he once flashed around Hogwarts grounds when he was mad or irritated. All I can say is that reverting back to something like that at this age is a bit sad. And on top of that, I think the prick is lying.

"It's not time," he snaps, and I can hear him standing up. Ah, now I understand.

"You haven't come to a conclusion; you're stuck someplace in the middle with your options, and you don't know which way to lean yet, is that it?" Observation has always been one of my strong points, and even with the loss of my vision I believe I'm still fairly good at it.

There's no response for a moment, and I know I have hit the nail on the head. He can't choose a side, can he? "Shut up Granger," he snaps finally, and I can still hear the childish snippy tone hidden behind infuriated breaths. For some reason, Malfoy is easy to read for me; it's a contradiction really, considering how little I know of him personally versus Ron, Harry and Ginny, and I could hardly read them at all while with them. Why is that?

"I am only making an observation," I say, my head moving to follow the receding footsteps. "We don't know how long we can hide away here before we are found, nor do we know what goes on outside these walls. I may not think France is the solution, but I think hiding here will only be good for a little while."

"Granger, France was perfect! You need to go, you need someone to look at those fucking eyes of yours and help you so you can do something like you have been wanting to! Why do you shoot down your only option for a quick appointment with a Healer?" I hear him click his tongue. "You are certainly a puzzle."

"Don't turn this back around on me," I snap, crossing my arms. "We are talking about you."

"You as well Granger. Your fate will come out of this too; we can't just leave you alone and rightly expect you to survive, now can we?"

"I am not a child Malfoy," I scold, my mood souring now. He had to ruin the calm environment didn't he?

"No, you just act like one." With that, I hear him leaving, but I don't follow. Why is he lecturing me about being a child, when moments ago I was thinking the same thing?

I don't follow; now I have something to think about as well.

* * *

It happens that night; Malfoy comes to see me. I practically jump out of my skin when his hand locks around my shoulder. But he is familiar enough to me that I don't fear him completely.

"Granger?"

"Yes?"

There's hesitation in his answer. "I need to go."

"Go? Go where? You can't go back-"

"Not back," he hissed, and I stop trying to talk over him. He's tense, and I can't figure out why.

"Then where? What are you thinking of?"

There's another pause. "I have to take my mother to France-"

"I'm not going," I snap, practically feeling him beg. Something is wrong with him; he's too tense for our situation. No one knows where we are, so why does he seem so… afraid?

"I know you're not," he says and I can feel him step away seconds before his soft footsteps begin the long trek of pacing. He really couldn't have taken more than a few steps back. "But this is important. My mother… she wants to return to the Manor. I spoke with her briefly earlier, and she wouldn't drop the bloody subject!"

"That's what she said?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. It sounded like a suicide request.

He shakes his head slowly. "Not exactly. If only you could see her Granger- she wanders around like a zombie, and her only point every time I mention something is what would my bloody father do if he found us? That is all she can ever talk about- it's sickening! But we have relatives from both sides of my family in France- my father's ancestors, as well as some distanced relatives of mother's that never cared much for the man. If they know she has escaped them I am certain they will keep her from going back."

I blink, surprised by this comment. He has been pushing me to go to France for days, and now he isn't even bringing it up? How interesting… "She's really bad, isn't she?"

"She's not in her right mind anymore," he replies, but here his tone has softened. I can only assume that he is attempting to keep himself together- but that's just an observation. Many teenagers would have a difficult time separating their parents in a situation like this, and even more so if their mother refuses to cooperate. I can't imagine how he plans to convince her to stay. The family might help, but they can only do so much. It takes a lot of effort to control a driven person.

"I see. Then you had best go soon Malfoy. Since no one has come here yet to get me, we can only assume that things are still happening on large scales concerning the war. I can't fathom who is winning anymore. But the sooner you go the better. After all, we can't exactly predict _who_ will come here first."

"What do you mean?" he asks, and I can hear the questioning tone there.

"I mean safe houses can only remain safe for so long. Someone from Voldemort's side could always find us; there's always that small possibility."

"I suppose you're right Granger," he breathes, and I notice he is growing closer as his voice gets slightly louder. "And it doesn't scare you to be left here all alone while I'm away? It could take up to two days before I can return."

"Yes, I'll be fine," I say, but something is bugging me. "Malfoy?"

"Yes?"

"Why are you coming back? Why do you feel that you must return here? You're taking your mother away, shouldn't you stay with her?"

There's a pregnant pause, and I almost wonder if he plans to respond. "I have unfinished business here," he replies at length, and I can hear him stepping away. "I have things I have to deal with before I can consider what to do with the rest of my life. My mother may need to be removed from this warzone, but if I turn my back on it I will regret it for the rest of my life."

When he doesn't continue, I clear my throat. "And what is it that you would regret?"

His response is what I expected to hear, but it's still eerie to have him actually say the words. "I still have to face my father."

* * *

I can hear them arguing from my place in the living room later that night. It's the same rubbish I assumed I would hear; she is afraid of leaving and having her husband find out, and he is insistent that she must go. Merlin, that woman is like a pet dog! She comes at the beck and call, and I'm almost certain that if Lucius were to step through the fireplace right now and call her name, that she would come. It's so pathetic. She might care for her son, but the man has her too whipped to be her own person anymore. Now I can understand why Malfoy is so worried about getting her away.

I let my fingers play with each other. How can someone be broken like that? How can they allow themselves to become that big of a shell, that large of a toy? It's horrifying really, to witness what a madman can really do to the mind of another. Even in school the Gryffindor's occasionally heard about Narcissa Malfoy around all the news of Draco and Lucius. If nothing else, she was envied for her pose and perfection. Where was that now? Where were the traits that had once made her so distinguishable? I don't know, but I bet this woman doesn't reflect any of that; I bet no one can even see the poise within her anymore. She's been too beaten down for that.

"If I go Draco, he will take his anger out on you."

"Mother, how many times must I tell you? I can handle myself. This is something that I need to do, that I can handle. You just need some time away from it all."

"There isn't time! War is in the air. Blood is being spilt as we speak- perhaps our family's own blood. You can't send me away when I am most needed- when you and Lucius need me!"

"I know." I can hear his tone softening here. "But I can't send you back there. You hardly made it through life in that Manor alive, and now you want to return to that hell? I can't allow it, for it would be sending you to your doom. You might hate me mother, but someday you'll be free from this horrendous spell."

There is a small gap in their conversation. "What spell darling?"

"What spell? Why, the spell father has had on you for years! If you don't break away now there will never be another chance to!"

They keep talking, but I drown their voices out with my thoughts. A small smile is playing at my lips. So he sees the spell too, the hanging loop that continues to eat at that woman? Good; perhaps Malfoy is really finally growing up. He knows Narcissa far better than I, and I must say that for him to take this long to realize it is sad, but at least he is realizing something.

Perhaps he really does need to face his father; he needs to face the man that has been pushing him down his entire life. I can only wonder how that will go.

We won't know until that day comes; until we break out of this house and _do _something.

We'll have to start immediately after he returns from France. Or better yet, we can go there straight from France.

Maybe I will chance my life and go with them. We are only going to get out of here together, for we are the only people each other can depend on. We don't know who is left alive, we don't know anything. We just have to leave to find out.

The only problem is, I'm not sure I want to know what is happening outside these walls. I'm not sure I want to face the possible bloodbath.


	28. Chapter 27 D

**Disclaimer:**All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea.

**A/n:** A much livelier chapter for all of you! Drama and wonder are going to come in. Hope you like it! And leave a review if you would like :D Thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

Sorry there are no reviewer responses this week! I just wanted to get this up for all of you before dance! You'll forgive me I hope... next time I will try to do so!

* * *

The time for waiting is over. Granger was right; I have dallied for too long on taking my mother away to France, and now I cannot do so anymore. Her need to find father again is strong and unless I can get her somewhere where her family will be at her aid, I fear she will somehow get away and return to that monster. After everything that has happened, this I cannot allow.

So I am taking her away from this place- tonight actually. I will return here when I am finished in France, and hopefully Granger will still be here. Whether we head off together to tackle this present war or go our separate ways when I come back; I don't know. I only know that there is a horrible chance she will die quickly without someone by her side. I am just not all that sure that the "someone" should be me.

Watching my mother is one thing; I have an obligation and I love her. But Granger? I don't understand it- maybe it's just because I have helped her through so much already- but I feel obligated to assure her safety. The last thing that needs to happen is for her to die now.

But there is still the haunting thoughts in the back of my mind; the ones that threaten to lecture me if I abandon her entirely and go out on my own. It would be wrong, and it would leave her all alone- at least in this moment- but I am afraid to return here.

I am afraid something shall go wrong and I will come back to nothing.

* * *

"They won't wish to see me." Mother has been telling me the same things all day, and I am about to plug my ears. We have all of her things gathered in the living room and shrank down to an agreeable size. My things are not here at all, but that is no bother. It will take ages to get there anyways, and we will have to start our trip now. International apparition has been cut off now that the war has broken out, and I will need to come up with a good excuse for our departure on the coasts; the nations are very determined to keep this war centralized to only Europe, even if that could be fatal for Britain itself.

"You don't know what they will wish to see," I sigh, grabbing the only thing that came with me besides my wand- my cloak. Throwing it haphazardly over my shoulders, I look at mother. She is still so hesitant.

If there were Floo powder, this would be a lot similar. But the last time we got out of this place that oaf that came to get us had to bring some with him. This place is certainly safe, but only if you do not need to leave. To get out of here we have to walk outside of the barriers around this house- out in the open- and apparate. I wish those fucking Order members had thought that through.

"I have not been home in ages, not since my parents relocated-"

"Which means that you can see them again and their new home," I cut in walking towards the door. There are no excuses; we have to do this. When she doesn't follow I go back and grab her hand, dragging her along. Granger stands to the side, her head moving this way and that wherever the noise is.

"I don't want to," mother replies, attempting to jerk from my grasp but I only tighten my hold. I cannot let her go, not now.

"It's no longer a choice," I sigh, running fingers through my hair. We get out on the porch and I turn back, searching for Granger. There she is, rounding the corner to follow us. "I won't be gone long."

"I know," she breathes, but from her place a few feet back I can sense her unease. She still thinks I should remain with my mother, I know this for a fact. But I just cannot; I have things to finish here.

"See you in a few days." I keep emotion out of my voice, not letting her hear how tired I am. I don't want either of them thinking I am too worn to do this; then mother will argue that we should wait and Granger will ask if I am alright.

And we don't need any more delays. When Granger does not respond, I turn my back on her and drag mother by the hand down the steps, forcing her to follow. Granger has to realize now that we are leaving, and a few seconds later the door to the safe house closes. Obviously, she did notice it.

"I presumed you would bring her with at the last minute," mother says, drawing my attention. I glance at her as we wade through the tall grass around this place, knowing the barrier isn't much farther out.

"Why?" I ask, perplexed. It was a thought, but one that was never seen through.

"Because, the two of you have regrettably grown close these last few days; I don't know why you strive to be so nice to her kind Draco, but I see why you no longer remain with your father. He would never approve of your kindness to her. Have you grown soft?"

"Now you sound like him," I mutter. "No mother, I have not. I have only learned to look at the world with open eyes. We're at war, but we also have to pick who we side with in the war. And no, I am not sure I was ever on the right side to begin with."

"Draco!"

"You brought it up mother; do not scold me because the answer is not what you desire to be told."

"I can't believe I am hearing this! Your father-"

"Is not someone I like to concern myself with. I will not feel bad about what I told you." We have reached the barrier, and although passing through doesn't feel like anything, I know now we can apparate. Thank Merlin I kept a hold of my mother's hand, for when I turn back and see the anger in her eyes I know it would've been hard for me to grab her again.

"Concern-"

Mother's sentence is cut off by a scream. We both freeze, and mother's eyes grow large. The scream comes from the safe house, the one we have just left, and that scream sounded an awful lot like Granger…

"Hide in the trees," I instruct, shoving my mother over towards the woods to the right of us.

She stumbles for a few steps before she regains her footing and is able to run on her own. At this point, I decide it is alright if I turn away. "Where are you going," she hisses, and I glance back. "Whoever is there is obviously angry." Another scream pierces the once calm land. "Whatever is happening to the Mudblood is none of your concern! We just got out here, and you were the one who was so eager to leave, so let us! We- where are you going!?"

I have already turned away to rush back the way we came, and her angry hisses do nothing to deter my determination. "I'm helping- stay in the trees; I'll come get you when whoever is here is gone."

I don't hear her angry, quiet reply because I am too far away, but if something doesn't happen to me I am sure I will hear what she wanted to say later, only the volume of her voice will probably be turned up.

By the time a third scream had come up I am at the door. Slowly my pace, I creep up the porch. Someone is whimpering inside, and I am willing to bet it's Granger. But who is here, and how did they know where we are? If these were Order members, we wouldn't be in this situation. But someone it seems from Voldemort's army has found this little area and any protection it once had against everything going on is gone. But how did they find it?

I wait several moments before peeking through one of this house's front windows. This place was certainly not built originally to be a safe house- that is for sure. Peering over the windowsill, I resist the urge to curse. Well now obviously the war has soured in the last few days, but I didn't think it would decline this quickly. This is crazy!

But there he is, no matter how much I wish I were wrong. There crouching over Granger is Yaxley.

* * *

It doesn't take long for a solution to become obvious. I wait a few moments, trying to ignore the man who is continuously hexing Granger. Yaxley has always been a dangerous character with a personality that only ever shows when he knows he is winning Now for instance, he knows that Granger is helpless to escape his wand.

I really hope this dolt came alone. I have creeped over to the door, hoping to be able to throw in a quick surprise attack before Yaxley gets his wits about him from my arrival and turns around to retaliate. It is only a hope however. We will see if it becomes a reality.

Throwing open the door, I jump to my feet and aim my wand. The sudden outburst has Yaxley spinning quickly and his eyes widen. Good; it seems that he did not know that we would be here. I don't hesitate as he quickly tries to process things, and instead I chose to hurry on with my plan. Throwing out a quick jinx, it propels the man back into the wall, his feet that had still been over Granger catching on her sides and flipping her as he went. There's a crunch, and I fear that her nose may have broke. But she makes no noise, and that is worrisome.

"So you are still alive boy? Pity, I will have to tell Bella. She thought you might be able to survive wherever you went, perhaps that you were even planning something, but it seems that her thoughts will be dashed." I am hurrying to get to Granger as he speaks and drag her out of the way. She is just starting to get up, her nose bent painfully, and I can hardly spare Yaxley a glance. I do note though that he is wiping blood from his forehead.

Did he just say that Bellatrix would have been proud of me had I been planning something for their side? What a delusional woman.

I just get Granger to her feet in time to retaliate to his comment, keeping my wand leveled towards him. "Aunt Bellatrix is one of the last people I would ever look for when seeking approval."

"Shame really," the elder wizard says, watching us closely. My brilliant plan to overwhelm him instantly is gone now. I waited too long, spent the time getting Granger behind me to keep the upper hand. Now I am worried about what his next move will be. I don't know this Death Eater well, for I have done little with him since becoming part of Voldemort's army, but I do know he is highly skilled with a wand. There's a possibility he knows an awful lot more dark curses than I do.

My answer comes quickly. He shoots out another spell and I barely have time to block it before another is coming. It happens in a whirlwind, and I fear for my life each time he shouts something new. I can only deflect him for so long before I am forced to retaliate, and so far that doesn't sound like it will be successful. Behind me, Granger clutches at my cloak.

I have gotten us backed against a wall when Yaxley finally smiles. It's a twisted smile that makes me fear what is coming next. The spell he plans to utter is slipping from his lips when a stronger voice overpowers his own.

"_Avada Kedavra."_

The horrifying green light encompassed with the killing curse slams into the man's approaching body, his smile wiped clean in the last moments of his life. I'm still trying to process the last few moments of time as I turn to look at the owner of the voice, someone who has been very withdrawn lately.

My mother's haunting eyes stare back at me, and for a moment everything is still. Granger's hold on my cloak does not loosen, although she doesn't shake behind me either. How everything went from calm and contained in a matter of minutes is beyond me. Perhaps it is better now that I waited to leave until today; else a horrible fate would have awaited Granger in my absence.

I'm the first one to speak only a few moments after the curse was uttered. "We have to go," I breathe, realization coming back to me. There could be other Death Eater's who have found this way to enter into this safe house, and remaining here could only cause another issue entirely. We don't have time to stand here in shock. Tearing Granger's fingers from my cloak, I turn and grab her hand, letting my fingers trail down her cheek for a single moment.

"You're alright," I say, trying to assure the both of us. Her nose is horrid, and I quickly heal that before turning to my mother, dragging Granger behind her. She is still shocked, and I can feel blood dripping onto my hand from some sort of cut. I did not thoroughly examine her this time, although I should. We just need to get away from here.

"We have to go," I say to my mother as we get to the door. She doesn't argue, doesn't respond, just nods and follows myself and Granger out. What a change this is from minutes before. I think we are all just trying to collect our senses at this point. "Come on! We can't dwell, we have to go!"

"We," Granger breathes from behind me, and now I know her fear. Her body is even but her voice carries a terrified tone. I can tell that she is afraid of what just happened, and there is a possibility she cannot fully comprehend it yet, nor who it was.

"Yes, all of us," I say, dragging her through the grass. Something booming echoes from inside the house, and I immediately hurry us up. Mother comes to jog beside us, and on the uneven land I find myself having to support Granger. We make it to the apparition point long before whoever has arrived can see our faces.

Someone blew our cover, someone gave this location away. You have to know where you are going in order to Floo there after all. As the three of us link hands, no other thoughts in our minds except escape from whoever is rushing out the door, all I can think about is who betrayed their side?


	29. Chapter 28 D

**Disclaimer:**All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea.

**A/n:** Another update! Things are going to get serious! I meant to have this up a few days ago but life caught up to me so I used a bit of my free time today to get this done for you. As always, you can check me out on my facebook using the link on my profile. Enjoy! Thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

* * *

The events following the escape of that fucking safe house blur together in my mind. At some point between the boarder of Britain and getting to France mother seemed to come alive, directing everything. I'm glad she did, for I found myself supporting Granger by that point. I never stopped moving to check how badly she was wounded until she slumped against me unconscious. It had stirred a lot of drama on the border, with civilians standing around wondering what was going on. I had to disappear from sight with her limp body to try to heal up the livid scars marring the front half of her body. This was an obvious fact that I had been too busy to notice- one I also knew mother had pointedly ignored. If she was planning to just let Granger bleed out on the way she should've let Yaxley kill us; at least that way I wouldn't have had to pause and heal her.

Apparating in her condition was exceptionally dangerous, and I had a terrible fear of splinching her- or worse. But when we were allowed to leave and I was forced to take her unconscious body across the sea, luck was on my side. She arrived there in the same condition she had been in London.

Finding mother's estranged family was easy. While I continued using my limited healing abilities to keep Granger alive, mother found us one of those death trap muggle machines- a _car, _and truly a strange item at that- to take us to a place she apparently already knew. Using a spell, she made the driver forget about Granger when I dragged her into the car, bloody and unconscious. When we got out and sent the driver on his way he had no memory of even picking us up.

How mother knew to obtain one of those cars and act so controlled suddenly was beyond me. It had my nerves on edge as we walked up the property of her parents' home, Granger limp in my arms. I had done everything I could to keep her together, but now we needed a real Healer to get any further. We did not speak on the way up, and I was thankful for the silence. Things were moving so quickly in these last few hours, and I only wanted to deposit Granger someplace so I could rest myself.

I have never met mother's parents in person. Father always took us to the opposite side of France when we came, and kept mother close to him the entire time. Back then I had thought nothing of it, and it was only recently that I began documenting how possessive father really was. However the Black's were not how I expected them to be.

Oh sure, the second they knew it was a Mudblood I was carrying they jumped back in alarm and demanded I dump her on the streets. Considering her blood status in this rich, racist neighborhood I can only imagine what would become of her if I did. Arguing that I refused and would rather follow her out as well- hoping this would sway their opinion- I was appalled when they waved their hands and said I was no better than her. The bastards!

Mother's parents have a direct hatred towards father from what I can see. Apparently the arranged marriage was not what they had wanted for her, and now they were unhappy with the choices _they _had made for her. I could only shake my head at the irony. But that did not help my case. Since I am the offspring of one Lucius Malfoy, their hate extended to me, since I can apparently only be like my father. I had to roll my eyes at that, thinking of all of the differences between us. And at their comment, mother finally jumped in to help me again. Horrified at the idea of kicking me out, she ushered Granger and myself into a room to _share _while she deliberated with her parents. Since I am fluent in French, I flooed the nearest medical facility and requested they send a healer to this address, only having to say the Black's names to get one through. I was thankful, and Granger was quickly healed. I didn't tell the Healer she was a Mudblood, and the man did not ask. When he was finished, he only told me to keep a close eye on her and owl him if anything seemed to be wrong. He asked me about her eyes, but I blew him off. I was not about to tread into that territory, certain that she would have my head if I had something done about her blindness without her permission. And so the Healer left.

And I have been waiting ever since for mother to come in and talk to me. I can tell that the talk with her very parents is not going well, and at some point that night, I pass out. It's a bright new day when I wake up again, having fallen asleep on the couch in the room, seeing as Granger is occupying the bed.

I don't get up at first, and allow everything to slowly sink in. I just escaped that war ridden country, accompanied by my suddenly courageous mother and nearly dead classmate. But Granger has recovered, and mother still remains a mystery. I sigh, reaching up to rub the space between my eyes. My body feels stiff from sleeping on this piece of furniture all night long, and it is only when I have begun to stretch that I hear the shuffling. Opening my eyes quickly, I find the source of the noise; Granger is awake and quite obviously disoriented, clenching and unclenching the bed sheets in her hands as she scoots around uncomfortably on the bed.

She looks quite afraid. I clear my throat, and she nearly jumps from her skin. Trying to suppress the urge to roll my eyes, I stand and attempt to stretch my back. "Morning Granger."

"Malfoy," she asks hesitantly, looking in my genera direction. When I say yes, I see her body relax a bit. "I wasn't sure who else was in here."

"Who else would be," I ask, pushing thoughts of the foreign Healer from my mind as I say this. Sauntering over to where she sits, I lean against a bedpost. "How do you feel?"

She tilts her head a bit, as though thrown by my question. "A bit tired, that's all. Why do you ask?"

I knit my eyebrows together. "Last night- you weren't doing so good. When we finally got here, I found someone to fix the wounds-"

"Wounds," she asks, sounding alarmed. I watch her hands quickly clutch at her arms, as though feeling for gashes. As she begins running her hands over her body I reach out and catch her wrists, causing her to stop.

"I told you someone came and fixed them. Fuck Granger, do you not remember what happened?"

"Not particularly. I remember being in the living room-"

"Of the safe house?"

"Well, yes, of course. And then something loud happened, but I'm not exactly sure what the sound was, and then everything is a blur. What happened?"

I sigh, knowing it will be a long story to explain. "I'll go into detail some other time, alright? Currently, we are in France- before you interrupt, it was crucial that I brought you along else you would be dead. This was not part of the plan. Anyway, we are in France, currently staying in the home of my mother's parents. They aren't exactly welcoming about our arrival, so don't say anything if someone else comes in, alright? It was never the intention for things to end up like this."

"So I've gathered," she sighs, rubbing her cheek softly. "Was there anything exceptionally wrong with me that this Healer reported when you got him here?"

"No. The only thing that stood out to him was your eyes-"

She jumped. "You didn't let him touch them, did you? I'll kill you Malfoy-"

"No, no," I argue back, quickly shutting her blithering mouth up. "I thought you would have my head- and you almost did just now even though nothing happened. Those are your eyes Granger, and although you should jump at the opportunity to have them looked at while we are here, I will not force it on you."

Her eyebrows knit together, those damned glasses somehow remaining after everything. "While we are here? So you truly did mean to return to London?"

I scoff. "Yes Granger; I still have some unfinished business."

It grows quiet after my words, and I can tell that she is inwardly thinking about something. What exactly is running through her mind I am not exactly sure, only that it now has her full attention and not me. It's a while before she speaks again.

"Did someone find us" she asks slowly, her fingers playing with each other. "Is that why we are here? I mean, if it were an Order member then I doubt you would've spent the effort to drag me all the way across the sea to a home that hates me as much as the Manor. So, was it a Death Eater? Is that why you dragged me all the way over here?"

I sigh, looking away from her. So what if she can't see me yet? It doesn't matter to me- or at least, not entirely. "Yes, someone from Voldemort's army found our location. I'm not entirely sure how Granger, but he did-"

"Who," she asks quietly, as though unsure whether or not she wants to hear this, "Who found us?"

"Yaxely; he's a dedicated Death Eater and Voldemort supporter, or at least he was. My mother killed him in an effort to save our lives."

I can tell that this information is a surprise, and she slowly looks back over at me. "Your mother saved _my_ life?"

"Yes, well, mine as well." I don't entirely know what mother's full reasoning for killing the man was, and I have yet to find the time to ask. Just like I have yet to get out of this room and figure out what the fuck is going on. I can tell we are not wanted, and I fully intend to get out of this place as quickly as possible. Meeting my "grandparents" was not the exciting adventure it should've been; they were rather cold people.

It's quiet again.

"How do you think he found the location? Yaxely, I mean."

"Granger," I say, gripping her wrist at this, "Please don't play dumb. I know you probably feel numb and maybe even afraid at this turn of events, but I am not about to lie to you. The only conclusion I can come to for someone finding that shitty little safe house is if someone from _your_ side betrayed you precious Order and gave away the location. Yaxely flooed in, so someone had to give him the location name- and probably who was hiding there- right? If you ask me Granger, it sounds like you have enemies even among your allies. This is war after all; you never know who your friends really are."

She ripped her arm out of my grasp, turning her body away as my words slowly sunk in. It's not what she wanted to hear, it's not the calming, reassuring words she desired. I gave her the truth, and it's quite cruel. It's cold, and brutal. This realization has to be leaving the same concern in her mind that it has left in mine; what caused this new twist in the war? What has been going on that we are missing? We have missed so much.

The words that finally slip off her tongue as I begin contemplating finding my mother nearly cause my brain to shut off. The issue that has been disabling this girl from the beginning is being brought into the light, but I never thought she would bring it up so quickly after what I just told her.

"What could the Healer do about my eyes?"


	30. Chapter 29 D

**Disclaimer:**All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea.

**A/n: **Another chapter! Hope you enjoy and don't forget to look at my facebook page! Thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

* * *

A day later I still find myself by Granger's side. I have called the Healer back, translating at length what he can do for her. To say that my grandparents are unhappy would be an understatement. Rather, they are furious. Mother has discussed with them who she is and why she is here, and although the Black's are not quite as racist as we Malfoy's, they still don't tolerate her kind in their home. It's been a bitching match since about her staying here, but I will not budge. I brought her here with us to keep her alive and I'll be damned if they will just turn around and kick her out. I have been over this enough times; it's not happening.

That doesn't bring silence to this place however. Even though I could go find myself my own room a part of me doesn't even believe Granger will be alive in the short time I am absent. So I have lowered myself to sleeping on the fucking couch in the same room. How ridiculous is this?

However, my choice seems to be a good one. Mother's father snuck in just last night and woke me up, the sedative Granger was on keeping her asleep. I get the feeling that had I not been around he would've killed her. But as soon as my presence was noted, all that happened was a lot of arguing. Black Senior is a terrifying man, just like my father. But after everything that has happened recently he is not someone that can chill me to my core. No, I think only Voldemort himself can do that.

Not my father. I am only angry with him.

After filling Granger in on what exactly the Healer would need to do to heal her eyes, she finally agrees. To say I am relieved is an understatement. Finally, she can be her own person- so long as everything goes according to plan.

Healing someone's eyes is a long process. One must be fully aware of what they are doing. This Healer seems to be the perfect person to do this task since he has an unusually open schedule as well as enough knowledge with the potions and spells that go with this process that I don't fear him harming her. But I think she does. I don't blame her exactly for being fearful- many people would be in a situation like this. But it's not like I am going to let something happen to her.

She realizes that, right?

Even if she does, she is nervous. She is blind, and although the muggle way to give someone back their sight can be effective, it is time consuming, and time is something we do not have. If we intend to get back to the war and help then we can't waste days and months here. We have already been gone two. And we still don't know who the turncoat was.

Healer's have to rebuild someone's eyes when they heal them, creating the ability to see. It is time consuming too, but less so. It won't take as long to do, nor to recover from. Thank Merlin for that; I cannot remain in this stuffy racist place much longer without throwing more than a few profanities and hexes at my grandparents.

"Malfoy," she says to me at some point in the day. We have been mostly silent since she decided to take up the Healer's help, and he will be arriving in but a few hours.

"Hmm?"

"Are you going to leave?"

I frown at that question, turning away from the bleak window I have been looking through to stare at her. "Beg pardon?"

She sighed slowly. "Are you going to be in here when he is?"

I smirk, thinking she is joking. "No Granger I thought I would leave you in here with this man we barely know and chance him being a racist and a Mudblood hater and come back in a few hours and see if you are still alive."

"Don't joke," she says quietly, pulling at the covers around her. For a moment I think she is cold and reach to help her pull the blankets up, but before I can get close she is shoving them off again. How odd.

"Well Granger, if you could tell it was a joke then why are you being so short," I ask in return.

It's a moment before she replies with a sigh. "It's a bit unsettling."

"What?"

"Being alone with someone I don't trust, who I don't know, can't see, but I am supposed to let him operate on my eyes?"

"Yes, with potions and spells. Mother's parents use this man all the time, nothing is going to happen."

She laughs hollowly. "Malfoy, your mother's parents are Purebloods I am sure, meaning that since this man is presumably also a Pureblood he should hold no animosity towards them. I'm a Mudblood, and we both know how even your grandparents feel about me. What if he feels the same? What if he intends to do good but then changes his mind? Racism against my _kind _isn't uncommon in Europe after all."

"No it's not," I sigh in return. "So what are you saying Granger? You want me to stay in here the entire time he operates so that nothing can happen?"

"If you wish to, then yes."

I wonder where that legendary courage of hers has gone. She is not as broken as she used to be a few weeks before when I first found her broken in the prison beneath my home, but what happened down there has obviously left its mark on her in more ways than one. She's scared shitless suddenly, and it's an odd thing to witness. Few times before have I seen her scared; she always wears a brave face so no one thinks she is unsure. But now after so much time spent together those walls have caved just a bit for me and now she can say she trusts me? That's stranger than thinking that she is no longer brave!

"Granger, I think it's more accurate to say that _you_ wish me to stay. I can if you really want; I have no fucking idea what I am going to do, but I can remain if it sets your mind at ease."

She is quiet for a moment before responding. "Thank you Malfoy."

"Oh, don't thank me yet. I've done a lot for you lately Granger. When you get your eyes back, you're going to owe _me_."

* * *

I believe Granger's 'operation' went fine, but I honestly couldn't even follow some of those spells. I am good with healing spells, but some of those I have just never heard of. I checked Granger's pulse when he went to get something to drink while one of the potions was sinking in; it was there, so at least he wasn't creatively killing her. I would've failed my job of watching her.

When the Healer does finally leave, I sigh in relief. Watching someone work on an unmoving body is quite boring. I'm told that she will awake in a matter of hours, and then if anything seems amiss I can owl him. Hopefully, nothing will be wrong, and we can get out of here. Perhaps he is not as racist as I pinned him to be, if he is even willing to come back and do some follow ups.

It's somewhere during the time he left and before Granger awakens that a knock sounds on the door. I raise an eyebrow, startled by the sound. No one has really come to this room to say anything since our arrival; I speak mostly to house elves to get meals, and that's it. Even mother has been a bit distant since arriving.

But low and behold, look who has come to see me- us. Before I can respond the door opens and mother peeks inside. I could roll my eyes at her; now she shows up? Those demanding parents of hers have been holing her away the last few days to speak to her- no doubt trying to persuade her to not go back home with me to father. Well, the jokes on them. That was never an option.

"So nice to see you," I snap. Sure, it's a bit forward and even bitter, but I don't care. How she went from being in control of everything after we left the safe house to disappearing for days entirely is beyond me. France will be safe, but it makes me question what will happen once I leave. Will her parents try to persuade her to never return to Lucius? It would be dishonorable for them to pull her out of a fucking arranged marriage, but I am not sure if I can blame them. Lucius is not the best man in the world, nor the kindest. Mother deserves something more, but if she lets her parents dictate that part of her life once I leave with Granger it will be bad. Look who they chose for her to begin with! Sure, it spawned me, but Lucius himself is not my idea of an ideal father either. Oh, the complications.

"I have been dealing with some things," she defends, glaring at me suddenly. "I have not seen my parents since I was married; we are discussing things."

"Oh trust me, I had already guessed that." I glare at her as well, in no mood to have her speak down to me. I am after all the one that saved _her_ from rotting away as father's pet wife, not the other way around. I am not at all surprised that she has to speak to her parents about things; if mother even knows who she really is as a person anymore I would be surprised. "I didn't think you would disappear entirely for days, however."

She sighs. "Like I said, I was discussing things."

"Without even a moment to come and see me, your son? It's not like I ask for a lot anymore mother, but you have never been one to just disappear. I was beginning to wonder if you were alright. I saw your father-"

"He's your grandfather Draco."

"I won't call him one. I saw your father the other day; he came in to probably kill Granger you know. Didn't even know I was here; I frightened him when I made my presence known."

She looked down. "They don't like her here. They want her on the streets. They are truly appalled that you had a Healer come and help her. That man wasn't too happy to help either-"

"I expected as much."

"He didn't want to help. He only did because he knows that we are Malfoy's- that you are Lucius's son. The name Malfoy is well-known throughout Europe after all. I think that was his only real reason to aid her at all. He didn't like her blood status either."

"No one does."

Narcissa glares at me, my mother giving me the most serious look I have ever seen on her face. "You're not going back, are you?"

"To England?" I ask. She nods. "I must."

"You must not! It's a warzone now Draco; all the papers have articles on it. No details, but it's the talk of Europe. People have bets on who will win, as though it's a game! No one really wants Voldemort to prevail, not unless they are aspiring to be Death Eater's themselves. It's a spectacle to Europe, one in which no one will offer any aid. If the Death Eater's are winning they will not pity you; they know your betrayal. Granger will not last long either I think. Not if you intend to drag her back immediately after her eyes heal. Going back will probably be the death of the both of you. Stop being foolish Draco, and remain here where it is safe."

"Where I have to reside in another home where the residents hate me? And Granger? I think not."

She frowns. "Then what do you plan to do? You can't go back and fight on the same side as your father; you are an outcast like I am now."

"The same side? Don't be ridiculous mother, I have no intention of fighting alongside father. Quite the opposite actually."

And at this, mother's face pales. I can suddenly see the concern in her face. "What do you mean?"

"Mother, isn't it fairly obvious by now? I will not return to help any of those bastards; never again. No, I can't do that. But I did help Granger, and she will be my key. For you see mother, if I have to fight with anyone, it's going to be with the Order."


	31. Chapter 30 H

**Disclaimer: **All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea.

**A/n:**Here's number 30 and a look through Hermione… in a way we have yet to see! Enjoy and don't forget to look at my facebook page! Thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

* * *

The first thing that I register as I begin to awaken is the pounding headache in my head. Merlin, it feels like someone has been hitting me with a baseball bat. I groan softly, careless as to who else could possibly be nearby. Vaguely, I remember requesting Malfoy to stay at my side for something, but as to why that is I cannot remember.

Rubbing my eyes slowly, I open them. Blinding light attacks my face and I shield my eyes again with my hands.

_Light!?_

Immediately I am sitting up, ignoring the pain in my head as I feel my mind go blank. The world takes a moment to focus, but eventually I can see it; the exquisite furniture reminds me of what I would expect Malfoy's home to look like, but I actually saw so little of it it's hard to recall. Looking around I feel like I am floating.

It worked. I can see. Sure, the light is a bit demanding and I have a headache, but who the fuck cares? This worked! Whoever the Healer was, they did a fantastic job, and I can see for the first time in months.

Slowly, I search for a figure in the space that I never imagined I would concern myself with. Turning my head to the right where Malfoy's voice has often appeared from, I spot the git himself, sitting there with crossed arms, watching me intently.

If anyone were to ever ask, I cannot explain what happens next. I hop up and startle the cool look off of his face before throwing my arms around him. His stiff body does not deter my joy.

"It worked," I explain, holding tight to his neck. It's a moment before his arms wrap themselves around my waist, and I think it's more because he feels obligated in this moment to comply than that he has the urge to hold me as well. "It worked!"

"Yes, I gathered that," he says, but his voice sounds odd. It takes me a moment to process that I am crushing his throat, and I loosen my hold a bit, refusing to pull back. There is some sort of comfort found here in the prat's arms.

We sit there like that for a while, and I don't even care that it's Draco who I am clinging to. The fact that I can even see is a miracle, and I refuse to be inwardly happy. No, this is a real joy that I must share with someone, and if he is the only one around then it must be with him! At some point in time I bury my face in the crook of his neck, and he doesn't pull away.

"Granger," he says at length, drawing me from my mind. I pull back and push away, giving us each a bit of space. How long were we hugging anyway?

"Yes," I say, rubbing my head slowly. It hurts still, and I wonder if this is some kind of side effect.

"How do you feel? The Healer said you may experience weariness and nausea for a few days."

That has my mind scrambling again. Once more he is using that almost caring, sympathetic tone that I really have only ever heard a few times, all of which happened back at the Manor. Why does he sound that way now? "No other side effects," I say instead, deciding to save the questions for later. It's not like they will do me any good to ask right now anyways.

He shifts a bit, and I have to suppress another happy kick. I can _see_ him shifting around in the uncomfortable looking chair, not just hear the movement. It makes me smile again, and he only raises an eyebrow in return.

"If your vision becomes blurry and remains that way for a few hours we must call him back. And if you black out as well. We will only wait here a few days to see how the side effects go. If all is well we can leave in a short four days."

This is a surprise. I never even considered that this visit to France would be so remarkably short. We have only been here three days at most, yet he has already planned our departure. I can't say I blame him, not with what is going on back home. We shouldn't even technically be here; we should be back fighting with our friends- even if we are on opposing sides. We would be doing more good elsewhere, but at least now I will really be able to help when I return. If I can locate a wand to replace my own, then I can fight just like anyone else at this point. I don't care if I will have had my 'new' eyes for only four days; I will be helping fight, and no one will tell me otherwise.

"That's rather soon-"

"It's necessary," he interrupts with a sigh, moments before he stood up from the chair and began to pace. "Mother's loving parents are less than pleased to see either of us here in their home. On more than one occasion it has been recommended that I throw you out on the streets or find more vile ways to get rid of you. Obviously, I have followed through with none, but that's beside the point. We are unwanted guests, and as soon as we get out of this place the better. Besides, the bloody fucking Order will need our help."

"_What_," I ask, my eyes widening. "Did you just say the Order? But you're-"

"Yes, yes, I'm a Death Eater," he spits out bitterly, "But it's not exactly something I have grown proud to be." He laughs at this, but it is a dry, fake laugh. "I told you I was going to need your bloody help now, instead of the other way around."

"But you're a Death Eater," I say again, completely thrown by the entire topic at this point. "Your family will fight beside Voldemort, why won't you?"

"Do you even have to ask," he snaps, spinning around to stomp back over to the bed. He grabs my chin, gripping it tightly as he looks into my eyes. "Look what the bastards did to you Granger; the plans they had for me and my mother. Why would I put myself back in the running with those people? Why would I want to?" He lets go, and I glare at him. He doesn't need to be so very forceful if I am already paying attention.

Draco takes a step back, as though distancing himself so he will not grab me again. "I told you that you would owe me when you had those eyes of yours back, and I will keep my promise. For you see Granger, I have no desire- nor intent- to return to Voldemort's side once we get back to England. None whatsoever. But I will fight; I guarantee that. And this is where you come in, for you are going to get me in with the Order."

"_What!_" I say, alarmed. That is one of the more ridiculous requests I have heard if there was ever one! Not only is the Order against everything Malfoy has to have been taught over the years, but it is full of people who cannot tolerate him and that he doesn't like in return. "How do you plan for me to do that? Harry and Ron are very unlikely to agree to this, no matter what I-"

"Don't forget Granger, I have saved your life on more than one occasion. They do have a reason to hear my request. I am not demanding, I am requesting. It's not like the Death Eater's would ever accept me back anyway, even if I wanted to side with them. I helped you, I took my mother away, and I have not killed you. There are many more reasons for them to hate me than to tolerate me, and it's unlikely that my fucking father would stand in my defense. He simply does not care enough to do that."

He turns away again, running long fingers through his hair. "It will be a waste of time for me to return to England if I have nowhere to go. We don't even know the standing between sides right now; it could already be over for all we know. I stopped reading the papers on it yesterday, when they messed up Bellatrix's name. If they don't even get the names right then I doubt they can get anything else correct either. I just know that I will be killed on the spot if I go back to Voldemort. Which is why I have decided to trade sides."

"That doesn't mean the Order will accept you," I reply, shaking my head. He needs to turn around. "I can only convince so many people that you are good-"

"_Convince_?" He spins around, eyes livid once more. "Granger, I _saved_ your life at the Manor, I took Snape's advice and got you out to that safe house when it could have jeopardized my life. I protected you from Yaxley even when I could've left you alone to be killed. There are many people who are worse than me in this world. If I cannot even be considered minutely good at this point then I never will be. For fuck's sake, _I_ went through the trouble of finding someone to fix those eyes of yours! And I sat in the room viva your request while the surgery went on so you were not alone with the Healer! Tell me, where do I come across as a bastard? When did I turn my back on you and leave you on your own in this mess? When did I ever toss you aside? I'm bad Granger? Well, Potter is no Saint either! He might be out to save the entire fucking world from Voldemort but he has his flaws just as well."

"Malfoy, I didn't say you were all bad," I slip in, my head spinning. Just what I need in this moment; side effects. "I said it will be hard to convince others-"

"Then tell them the truth," he hisses, cutting me off. "Why don't you tell them what I really have done for you instead of just trying to get them to agree? We aren't even back in London yet and you're already telling me no. It's in your nature Granger to try and convert people to your side for the 'greater good' but now that you have a chance you just give me excuses as to why you won't speak to anyone upon our return." He is shaking his head by now. "I should just leave you here to deal with this family."

"Malfoy! I have other obligations, other things to do. You can't even threaten to leave me alone-"

"Sorry Granger," he snaps, cutting me off once more. "Since you expect me to be so cruel, I thought I would just give you another reason to think so! At least then your words would be true, right?"

"I wasn't-"

"Save it," he sighs, shaking his head. Blonde bangs come to fall in front of his eyes. "I don't care to hear it right now. Why don't you just lie down or something? You probably need more fucking rest. I'll just go have a walk." He turns without waiting for my reply, storming to the door and throwing it open. He is gone before I can utter a word.

As the door slams shut, I let out a shaky sigh. Slowly sliding back into the warm covers, I close my eyes and fall back into the black abyss. This was not the kind of talk I wanted to have just after having something so brilliant happen. If only things had gone to a happier note after our shared hug, perhaps I wouldn't feel so burdened right now. But Malfoy is all about plans and duty it seems, and his new personal appointed duty seems to be joining the Order, strange as that sounds. I never thought I would see the day the prick came to the same side as me, Ron and Harry.

I don't see why he had to push the subject so quickly. He even said so himself that we won't leave for another four days, so what is the big rush? Couldn't he have brought this up later or, I don't know, tomorrow?

_What made him bring it up so suddenly?_

I have no answers to this question, and open my eyes once more. I have lived in a blank world for too long now, and missing anything will be a tragedy at this point. With Malfoy gone I chance getting out of this comfortable but suffocating bed; I've been lying here too long.

The minute I stand I notice the mirror opposite me. Hesitantly walking towards it, I study myself. It's been a long time since I looked in the mirror and saw myself looking back. There are new scars that I don't recall seeing, but that I know came from Lucius, Rodolphus and Bellatrix. I wince at the memory, moving further down my body. My hair is limp and beaten, and my clothes are quite shredded. Have I really been wearing so little in front of Malfoy for so long? That's appalling!

And then it clicks in my mind, my mistake; I hardly took into account at all what the git looks like! I have my eyes back, and I have wondered many times, but now that I have the chance to see I don't even think about looking? What is wrong with me?

I'll have to take a closer look when he returns. There is no urge to leave this room and encounter more people who hate me and wish to do me harm, wandless. I'll have to acquire one from somewhere before returning to England, where I cannot guarantee it will be as easy to locate one.

With all of these thoughts in my mind, I hardly register what is behind me. I finally catch it from the corner of my eye, and I feel my jaw drop. Spinning quickly, I turn to gaze at something I have dearly missed, something I thought I could never truly appreciate again.

_Books._


	32. Chapter 31 D

**Disclaimer: **All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea.

**A/n: **More Draco. Major scenes coming up after this one! Enjoyand don't forget to look at my facebook page! Thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

* * *

I leave Granger to her thoughts, seeking answers to my own. Outside of the bedroom, I lean against the wall and sigh. Bringing up the topic of the Order so quickly after her operation was probably not the best idea, but we need to be moving on. Four days is way too long to be waiting here, to be ignoring our war. But really, it's necessary if I intend to make this surgery worthwhile.

Bringing her back only half repaired will do me no good. I need to be sure that she will be alright upon our return to England. It isn't just about healing her to get in good with the Order; it's so much more than that.

My father and aunt are the main people responsible for the torture she received down in the dungeons. The reality of this has followed me as a heavy burden since I first found her tortured down there in that hellhole, and it has taken me ages to make what happened right. It will never really be alright or forgotten, but for ages now the thought of what my father is capable of has haunted me. It's unfortunate that Granger was his victim, a victim picked simply for whom she was friends with. In the end, she hadn't even provided the Death Eater's with any information. They may have broken her, ripped her sight straight from her head, but she had never caved to their desires. It's something I can respect her for.

And now, after weeks and weeks of watching her try to work around her disability, I have come to a place where I can make things right. I thought the Order would be the ones to do that, but her precious friends were too preoccupied with others to perform the surgery that would've put their smartest member back in the running as being a threat. Granger is skilled with a wand when able to wield one, and she has an intelligence level that cannot be matched. Why they would push her to the side as a secondhand worry is beyond me. Had she been a Death Eater, she would've been a top priority simply because Voldemort values his most important men.

She is very important, and she is also quite right that I can't leave her here. She is my ticket into the Order, and truthfully I wouldn't trust these people to care for her. She would be out on the streets or murdered minutes after my departure. No, she has to return with me, just like she wants. With that in mind, I start walking down the hall, no particular destination planned out. I just want to think.

Lately I have gotten very protective of the girl and what happens to her. When Yaxley had her pinned, I had the urge to rip his head off- but mother killed him first. When she requested that I remained at her side during her operation I put up the face of mild amusement and surprise about what she was asking, but inwardly I had rolled the idea of remaining there anyway in my mind a few times. Having her request that I stay made my mind but for me. But why was I so concerned and protective of her now? I didn't exactly feel this way when I brought her to my room back at the Manor- which was never even my idea- or when I traveled with her to the safe house. This need to watch her had only come into the light recently, and I couldn't begin to name a reason why.

It's not like I feel anything for her after all. I am thrilled that she can see, and eventually I will sway her into taking me to speak with the Order members, but that doesn't mean that I need to start feeling differently about her. No, there has to be a real reason here as to why I feel that I must watch and protect her- and that no one else can.

Why do I have to start feeling this now, during the middle of a war? It is dangerous to have feelings when fighting, for the loss of that person can be an exceptional blow to your emotional and mental wellbeing. If only these odd emotions would wait to appear until after things have been decided amongst the sides, then things will be far easier.

Well, they will actually only be easier if Potter prevails. Under Voldemort's rule Granger would be killed.

I sigh, stopping in front of a door that leads out onto the grounds. Perhaps some fresh air will do me good.

* * *

"I heard her shuffling around," someone says, drawing my attention. I sigh, glancing behind me. I thought I had located a relatively private area in the Black gardens, but that appears to be a myth. Mother has found me now, and I wonder what she could want.

"Wouldn't you be moving around in her shoes? She hasn't been able to see for ages, and suddenly she is given back the ability to take things in through her eyes? If she were sitting around quietly doing nothing then I would be concerned."

"You would be concerned for the likes of her?" mother asks, taking a seat on the bench beside me. For once there is no bitterness in her tone.

"Well yes," I say, glancing at her a second time. "I thought that would be obvious, considering how much time I have spent making sure she stays alive."

Mother nods slowly, taking things in. "Do you care for her?"

Now I am concerned about where she plans to take this conversation. "As a person, yes. I don't think what happened to her was right, and I thought she deserved the right to fight in a war that involves her people in large numbers. Why are you asking questions about her today?"

Beside me, mother sighs and begins to move her hair out of her face, blown there by the frequent but soft winds. "You are not just returning to England to get even with your father, are you?"

"Of course not; I wouldn't mind getting a spell or two in at Voldemort as well."

This is obviously not the answer she wants to hear, and her disapproving look says it all. "That is not what I mean, and you know it. You are returning to England to fight beside her."

"Granger? Whatever makes you think that mother?"

"Because son," she says tiredly, reaching over to push my bangs from my forehead, "I am your mother, and I see things. You are quite careful when dealing with her, and on more than one occasion you have watched for her safety. You may not see what you are doing yet Draco, but I do." She pats my cheek softly. "And you are falling in the wrong direction in my opinion.

I'm unsure what she is indicating to in the last part of her comment, be it the war or Granger herself, it doesn't matter to me. "These are my choices mother. I will return to England and fight with the Order, for I can no longer follow Voldemort's dark ways."

Mother's eyes shimmer and I still quite don't understand her. "Keep telling yourself that Draco," she says softly, patting my cheek once more before she stands. "I will leave you with your thoughts."

She begins walking off, and a question is playing at the tip of my tongue, one that has bothered me for days now. "Mother?" She glances back, and I rise from my seat, stuffing my hands into my pockets.

"Yes?" she asks when I say no more.

I take a breath. "Why did you come down to the safe house and help me and Granger? I can understand your need to come to my aid- you're my mother after all. But you spent the longest time hating her very presence near you, and then out of nowhere you willingly kill a high ranking Death Eater to defend us both. And to top it all off, you go from paralyzed and haunted to controlling our very route to France in a matter of minutes after the event?" I shake my head. "I can't understand the logic there."

In response, she gives me a smile. "In dire situations Draco, mothers have the ability to logically put their child first. You were brave, willing to put yourself in harm's way for a Mud- for Miss Granger, something I find remarkable. But in the end, you are my son and I would not let harm befall you. The killing curse is not one I have used often, but it was necessary and I did what I had to."

This is something I could've answered for myself though; mother's response does not provide the extra details I'm searching for. "You did all of this because I am your son?"

"Of course."

I purse my lips. "Then if I had not been in front of Granger, if I had been on the other side of the room entirely that night, would you have intervened. Would you have helped in any way?"

Silence follows the end of my question, and for many moments I begin to doubt that she plans to answer me at all. But then she does. "If you had the same look in your eye that you always do when my father insults her, then yes, I would've helped."

"And what look is that," I snap, unaware that I ever had a look in my eye when concerning Granger.

Mother only smiles again. "You care for her Draco, which is something rare indeed. Even if she is who she is, I would not let her die, if only because you need to have that sort of feeling in your life. You have to know what it's like to be worried and concerned for another."

I want to point out that mother is constantly talking about how much she dislikes Granger, but I bite my tongue. Either her hatred is all an act, or she has mixed feelings over how we interact. I believe it to be the latter. But I could be wrong.

Then again, I often have mixed feelings concerning Granger as well.

* * *

The next four days seem to fly by. Before I know it Granger and I are preparing to leave this place. I have already said my goodbye to Mother, knowing my dear grandparents could care less about me. Which is perfectly fine, since I honestly can't stand them either.

"How will we get back in," Granger asks, donning a sweater I picked up for her. Those ratty clothes she has been wearing for ages had to go, and just the other day I went to the market and picked each of us up something new to wear. It won't really matter once we return to England and resume in a war, but it is a nice luxury to have for now.

"We are going to apparate up into La Havre, a city on the coast. From there we can work on finding a way back into England since everything is so locked up. I assume we have to find one of the less common entrances- which will also be more dangerous to travel through- but an illegal, less traveled channel is likelier to allow us back into Britain. From there, we can pick a location and apparate there without a problem- assuming that area still exists."

Granger shudders at this. "I hope the war hasn't destroyed too much yet- it's early on in the actual battles. Hopefully…" Her voice trails off, but there is a longing in her eyes and I understand what she is aiming at; her friends. Worry over them plagues her just the same as concern for Blaise and Pansy's wellbeing haunts my mind.

"Don't think about them Granger," I say, tilting my head up a bit. "Don't start worrying about if they are alright or not, for then you will be distracted as we travel. And once we get into England distractions will be exceptionally dangerous." It's odd to give Granger a motivational speech, but I can see the worry in her eyes, and I can't ignore it. There are too many dangers for us to return with clouded minds. "Think a little bit of the journey at a time and your mind will have something else to focus on. Besides, Potter and Weasley are not unknown people; they probably have the entire Order guarding them whether or not they want it that way."

She looks away again. "Probably." Straightening herself up, she clears her throat. "Should we go then? You'll have to apparate us- I am still without a wand."

At this, I only raise an eyebrow. "Are you sure?" Her head whips around to look at me again as I reach into a hidden pocket of my cloak and abstract a box. "I haven't had the time to take you to a store and purchase another one- nor do I think it would've been a good idea- but I did find this the other day hiding in the closet here." Chucking her the box, I make sure she catches it, chocolate eyes dancing over the item with suppressed glee.

"Malfoy, I can't-"

"Don't start saying can't again. Do you know where your wand is? No, you don't. Whoever is the owner of that one is probably long dead and likely won't mind you using it. Besides, we are going to war; you need something to help you defend yourself. You're not blind anymore; you can see what you are hitting."

A smile graces her face, and I am at least relieved to see that she doesn't plan to argue, but instead extends a hand in my direction. "You still better apparate me; I haven't the slightest idea exactly where Le Havre is."

To this, I smirk. Grasping her outstretched hand, I spin her in so she is close to my body, practically hugging me. The action is just as surprising to me as it is to her. Where did that come from? I only had the desire to know she was close, and now we are pressed tightly against each other. As if there aren't enough questions between us.

But instead of voicing my own questions, I continue on with our actual conversation. "Then I'll take you Granger. We may as well apparate together for a while; you are a bit out of practice and we really don't want to lose each other on the return trip, do we?"

"Not at all."

Her answer is enough for me, and I envelope her form into me with a single arm. Pausing for half a second, I make sure she has secured that unknown wand someplace safe. Seeing that she has, I decide it's time to go. Without further hesitation, I wave my wand and we are off, ready to try and search out the Order in the growing mess that has become England.


	33. Chapter 32 H

**Disclaimer: **All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea.

**A/n: **I've been sick the last few days but wanted to get an update out to all of you lovely readers. Enjoyand don't forget to look at my facebook page! Thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**! **Not yet edited.

* * *

England is not as I remember. Malfoy was right; we passed some very shady and twisted people when we finally got to the coast, and once we found safe place we Apparated into London, careful about our location. We have been detached from the war for a while and don't want to take any chances.

Our concern pays off. Arriving on a street someplace in the magical part of the city, we are nearly spotted by a Death Eater. I grab Malfoy immediately and pull him to me, out of sight of the enemy, just as the blonde whispers a disilluminant spell. The man- I can only assume it is a man by the height and build- completely misses us and our shallow breathing. We have been back in the town less than five minutes and have already been through a near death experience.

It's going to take a long time to get anywhere. I argue with Malfoy for several minutes about Apparating to the Order's hideout, but he is quite weary. He continually points out that now that we have seen one of Voldemort's men wandering around freely, it doesn't look promising as to what else we will encounter. Apparating in could be the end of us both if the hideout has been taken. I ask more than once why we didn't just go there in the first place. All he says in return is that he wanted to get a layout on who appears to be in the lead thus far. He points out that if Voldemort had already won that there would likely be many bodies littering the street. I can't say that theory is out there, that's for sure. He has a point.

Eventually, I persuade him to Apparate with me to a place nearby the hideout, and we can scout things out again there. Reluctantly he again agrees and we are off again.

Arriving, I hear something that makes my stomach drop. We have barely gotten our feet on the ground before someone is screaming, "Hey!"

I whip my head around at the same time Malfoy does. A Death Eater is charging at us, suddenly firing a hex in our direction. I reflect it. Beyond the small alleyway we have arrived in I can hear footsteps, and realize this man was calling for aid. Horror fills me; I didn't expect to faced battle so soon after recovering- or arriving- but there is no time to hesitate. In the few seconds I have taken to think Malfoy has fired some sort of spell that sent the man to his knees. He's already scrambling to grab his wand again.

"Granger," the blonde says beside me, "That door, open it- now!"

My head is glancing around at his words. There is a door next to us, boarded up like it hasn't been opened in years. No matter, a quick spell has it opening at my mere touch. I glance up and see Malfoy levitating the still body of the Death Eater towards me quickly.

"Get inside," I say, sick of watching him do all the work. I know a spell that can keep us from being found in there." Someone is nearby now and I fear that our single minute of battle has cost us the ability to escape cleanly without joining a much larger fight where we would have no help against the people coming towards us, who I assume are Death Eater's indeed.

Draco has the man inside immediately, grabbing my arm as he passes. I barely have time to snatch the door handle before we are thrown into darkness and I quickly utter the spell, hoping we have gotten inside in time.

"Lumos," Malfoy says from behind me as I finish the incantation; it's the same spell I used while traveling with Harry and Ron on our search for Horcrux's, and it will indeed come in handy now at least in keeping the Death Eater's from entering through this wall. I will have to quickly cast it on the rest of the space to ensure that we are safe for a bit.

I turn to examine the space as I hear footsteps outside. Grateful that the spell is up, I hardly bother taking the entire space in, just the next wall. This had to of once been a kitchen to some sort of restaurant, now caked in years of dust. I vaguely wonder what this place was called as I reach the second wall. Spending the time to do this is quite possibly useless if we plan to leave soon, but it will ensure that we aren't found, even for the short time we are here.

I hear Malfoy's voice behind me as I continue. "What was that? Did you think that alerting your friends would help you apprehend us? Sorry, your plan seems to have bested you. Don't try any of that wandless magic bullshit, or I'll stun you. Now, let's see who hides behind the mask."

The space is fortified by the time he says this. I finally have the chance to glance over at the two, having been listening to the blonde's angry tone the entire time. It is an anger I have never heard from him before; I have heard him be regretful, pitiful and even human enough to know when the torture being forced on someone needs to stop. But this tone is different from the others; there is a purely sadistic edge to his voice, as though he is fighting down the urge to kill this man right now.

_But why?_

Moving closer, I finally see how is hiding beneath the mask. At first, I don't know who exactly this man is, for I have not cataloged every person who works for Voldemort and do not know them by name. He is familiar though, and I feel like I have met him before.

A twisted smile pulls at the man's lips, and it reminds me of the cat in Alice in Wonderland for some reason. "Well, if it's not Lucius's bastard of a son."

Malfoy hits the man before I can react, and my grip on my wand tightens. I'm not entirely sure what Malfoy is looking for from the man, but he seems exceptionally angry all of a sudden. When we were bringing him in he wasn't that angry, was he?

Instead of gracing the man with a response, the blonde points his wand down at the captive and glances at me. "Whatever that barrier is you just put up, it's silent I assume?" I nod. "Good."

I keep my distance as Malfoy turns and hits the man a second time before stepping back to fully extend his arm, keeping his eyes on the man. I come up behind him and peer over his shoulder, still wondering what calls for the sudden hostility.

"Hello Rabastan," Draco says evenly, barely moving a muscle. "I always thought you would die early on in this war. Tell me, what has gone on these past few weeks."

The man- Rabastan apparently- scoffs and glares at Draco. "Why would I tell you? Look who you are parading around with! The filthy Mudblood- really Draco? You could've succeeded into so much more. But our Lord will not take lightly to someone who so e captive easily betrays his side."

"Your Lord," Draco hisses, and I glance at him. There's fire in his eyes now. "I will never be associated with any of you ever again."

"How touching," the captive replies, moving his focus over to me. I lift an eyebrow at this. "You healed her eyes?"

"Does it matter?"

A smug smile took place of the sadistic one as Malfoy says this. "Letting your heart soften boy? You chose the wrong path; had you stayed, we had plenty of methods to break-"

The end of his sentence is cut off as Malfoy hits him a third time, sending him to the ground. His head hits a table, and I'm quick to set in front of the blonde before he can continue to beat the Death Eater up.

"Stop that," I hiss, glaring up into his eyes. His hands have already found a place to grip my arms again but I shake him off. He will not just move me however he pleases. "Enough already! We need to find answers, not abuse people."

His eyes are stormy, and the anger there is evident. Looking up into those silver pools I am reminded of Lucius. Since Draco started helping me I have placed him in a different mindset than his father, simply because he has shown that he does possess a heart. But perhaps that is my mistake. Draco is still part of the Malfoy line, stemmed from the malicious man that helped Bellatrix Lestrange blind and abuse me. I seem to have forgotten that while Malfoy has proven himself to be a coward on more than one occasion, he still has the same genetics that Lucius does, which means he might forget sometimes that torment is not the only way to abstract information from a person. Indeed, I have not seen this side of him before.

The blonde's hands tighten at his sides. "I suppose, but keep your distance Granger; he can be as merciless as my father."

I flinch at that. Yes, Lucius can be quite the bastard at times, and I have the scars to prove it. Nodding, I step to the side only to fall to the floor. A hand has come to lock on my ankle, and I cannot believe we got so lost in our short talk that we forgot about Lestrange. I kick at him with my other leg, connecting with his face. My efforts are unneeded though, as Malfoy stuns him a moment later, and the upper half of his body slumps against my lower. I shove him off.

"What was that you were saying about torture being unnecessary," he snaps, watching me stand. I roll my eyes, checking to make sure my wand is still in my pocket. I could've stunned him as well, but apparently my mind is on pause and the simple answers are escaping me.

"It's not needed," I reply, glancing at Rabastan. "We just need to keep our guard up more. We are definitely out of practice if one bloody Death Eater has nearly bested us both."

"I beg to differ Granger; he has not gotten the best of me yet."

I glare. "That's not the point. We are taking things too lightly and not being careful enough. I mean we Apparated here and nearly had a clan of Death Eater's on us!"

"But we don't do we," he counters, beginning to pace. "We're out of practice- you more so than I- but we are not stupid. We can both duel excellently; we are simply taking things too lightly." He shakes his head. "Rabastan isn't even one of the best Death Eater's. We need to stop being careless and actually focus on surviving. Wandering aimlessly will just get us killed."

"Well, the Order headquarters is nearby, we could-"

"I may not be exactly sure where this bloody hideout is Granger, but I will not be looking for it blindly. If this man was so close, that doesn't mean that the headquarters is still secret at all. We can't risk going there on a blind hope." I watch his eyes slide over to the stunned form of Lestrange. "But we do have the opportunity to figure out what has gone on in our absence." He begins walking towards the man, and something occurs to me.

"Didn't you say he could do wandless magic?"

"Not sure," Malfoy replies as he reaches the Death Eater's side. I remain behind him, ready to send some spells in that direction if anything seems amiss. "I do know that it is a common trait among highly ranked members of Voldemort's men, and although Rabastan isn't the best, he does have a brother who was high in Voldemort's favor the last time I knew. I just didn't want any surprises."

He taps the man, and the spell lets up. Almost instantly Rabastan is lunging at him, but Draco has him thrown against the wall in a matter of seconds. As the blonde stands, I am finally able to see where Lestrange's wand went to- his back pocket.

"How kind of you to wake me," he hisses, glaring down at Malfoy.

"Don't start being a wise arse again, I don't have the time." Draco has his wand pressed to his throat, digging into the skin. "You're going to do something for me now, since I have been gracious enough not to kill you yet. You're going to tell me what has gone on these past few weeks."

What follows is a blur of words, curses, screams and spells. I find that I need to do nothing, for admits his angry stride; Malfoy seems to have become an excellent interrogator. I vaguely wonder if it is something he was ever trained in.

At some point I lose interest, for they go on long spiels about where they each stood in Voldemort's ranking. Sitting down on the floor, I don't recall letting my eyes fall closed.

I'm awoken by Malfoy roughly shaking my shoulder. Groaning, I curse myself for being careless and falling asleep. What if he has needed my assistance? Sitting up, I find that the man appears to be stunned once again, left on the floor.

"Did you get anything," I ask, standing. A large smirk is all the answer I need. "Well?"

"Well Granger," he says, throwing an arm around my shoulders- an action that catches me off guard- "I have found out many useful things while you dozed. The most important being what has happened to the Order."

My eyebrows shoot up. "And?"

"They seem to have taken up refuge at Hogwarts- something about this headquarters being broken into. Death Eater's patrol this area to make sure no one tries to get inside and rescue the hostages- yes, there are hostages."

I throw my hands up. "Why are we standing here then? We should go and get them out!"

"Hold on," he says, shaking his head. "I believe it will be more complicated than that."

"How so?" I am weary about what his response shall be.

"Now see- that's why he is still here." Draco juts a finger off in the direction of Rabastan. "He is going to be our key to everything."

I don't like the sound of that. Glancing over, I cringe. Looks like Malfoy got back into beating him up while I was asleep- but however did I sleep through that? Shaking my head, I clear my thoughts.

We've been back less than a day, and already things have become a mess. I wonder what else we will encounter.

And just what is Malfoy's plan?


	34. Chapter 33 D

**Disclaimer: **All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea.

**A/n: **Here's another chapter. You might be slightly confused with a certain spell but don't worry, it will be explained further in the next chapter or so. I know this is a lengthy story but the chapters are short so I update often. Don't forget to review! Enjoyand don't forget to look at my facebook page! Thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**! **Not yet edited.

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Granger has been watching me with those calculating eyes of hers since I brought up the possibility of a plan. I wish she wouldn't study my every movement with that same penetrating gaze, as though I will soon do something ridiculous. I know the dangers of attempting to get into that hideout, so she should not worry about my carelessness so much. I would be dying too if they found us.

But then, that is the whole idea isn't it? We can't exactly use Rabastan to our advantage if we aren't seen- or can we? I am still mulling over the details of the plan in my head.

Besides, I doubt Granger is one to accept the use of Unforgivable Curses. A quick Crucio might have us getting things done in a faster manner- or even Imperio would work- but the last thing I need is for Granger to go off her rocker because I use a couple of dark spells. Those aren't even the most vile in existence, though it's probably best not to point that out and demonstrate. She would probably have a fit. For now I will just make do with some clean spells and a crafted plan.

"Do you think there are a lot of Death Eaters inside the hideout," she muses at some point, disrupting my train of thought. I glance over at her. Something in her voice sounds a bit pained.

"I would assume so. Voldemort like to keep a close eye on prisoners."

She nods and looks away from me. With a sigh, I shove my own ideas aside. We continue to stun Rabastan whenever he wakes and becomes too unruly, for the last thing we can handle right now is for him to somehow summon other Death Eaters. For now the man is best left unconscious.

"What's troubling you Granger," I ask, turning to sit directly beside her. We are on the floor on one side of the room, Rabastan on the other. She is fidgeting with her hands and I know something is bothering her. If she keeps grumbling I will never get anything done. "Do you want to help me plan?"

"I'm not entirely sure what your plan is yet."

"Nor I am," I confess, and she glances at me. If that statement worries her she masks her concern well. "But something has gotten beneath your skin, hasn't it?"

"Why do you say that?"

"You're fidgeting and muttering, two things I watched you do at school during exams whenever you were stressing about your grades- which were always immaculate. So what's stressing you now- and please don't tell me it has to do with this Order placement."

Her eyes flash. "What else would it be? Those hostages could be my friends! The last time I was at the hideout it was under attack. That's how I ended up back at the safe house in the first place; Ginny and Professor Snape forced me to leave."

"Ah Snape," I say, recalling my godfather. "I haven't heard much from him in a while."

"And that doesn't trouble you? He could be dead Draco-"

"Beg pardon," I interrupt, caught off guard by her use of words. Obviously she doesn't notice the slip up, and simply raises an eyebrow at my confusion. "Did you just use my name?"

She sighs and looks away. "Malfoy-"

"Ah ah ah," I say, interrupting again, "Use the name you just said."

"This is irrelevant-"

"Only in the eyes of the beholder."

Granger huffs. "Look, _Draco_, I don't have the patience to play these games. Yes I slipped up and used your real name, but so what? We have been on our own together for a while, using each other to survive- it's bound to happen. Don't make my mistake a bigger deal than it is."

I raise an eyebrow as she turns away. "Fine, _Granger_, let's pretend for a moment that it's not a big deal and move onto other topics. What do you fear about returning to headquarters?"

She stiffens. "I don't fear anything. I want to have a valid update about what is going on presently and get to Hogwarts to help as quickly as we can."

"So in other words, you want to ensure that your friends have survived?"

For a moment, she doesn't say a word. "Yes, that's part of it. But do you blame me Malfoy? You have to be having some thoughts about Pansy and Blaise- maybe even your father."

_You have no idea Granger; that isn't something I will be sharing with you. _"I am human, I do wonder about them. But I won't let it distract me from our current predicament. Get your head out of the clouds and help me finalize this plan so we can do something useful for a change."

There's a bit of hesitation in her body as she turns around to look at me, and I can almost hear the girl swallowing her words, fighting off the conversation pieces to begin another pointless argument. "What do you need assistance with," she asks, avoiding my eyes. I'm sure if she looked at me all the pent up irritation in her body would shine through those almost spheres and burn a hole in me. She really can get worked up sometimes. I reach to her with one hand, and she joins me again on the floor. It's about time we get things moving again.

* * *

Parting ways with Granger is possibly one of the most frightening things I have experienced in a while. I can't explain why, but once we finally got out of that warded area and determined that it was safe to at least prowl this short span of alley and parted ways, my heart sped up. Damn it all, maybe I am a bit concerned about her safety. But for now, I can't let that distract me. Any distractions at all and I will be suffering in a moment. After all, careless actions can get a person killed in seconds.

Crouching behind some sort of disgusting, enormous rubbish bin, I set Rabastan free. After a lot of arguing I finally came to an agreement with Granger to not use the Imperio spell on this man, but a similar one. It only forces the victim to follow a short amount of demands, and said victim is fully aware of what is going on. Thankfully though, Granger knew a simple spell to wipe us right out of this bastard's mind, so when the effects of my own spell wear off in a little over an hour he will not be able to recall who attacked him. I hope we will be long gone from this place by then.

I peek over the top of the rubbish bin as my Death Eater captive runs off. Granger should be located on the adjacent side of this building, so hopefully we will meet up just a few building's down, since I have no bloody idea which one is supposed to have the Order headquarters in it.

The moment I can't see him anymore, I make a run for it. Constantly checking my surroundings for silent pursuers, I make it to the next nearest place to hide successfully. Out of the corner of my eye I spot a rogue dark robes and duck low, whispering a concealment charm. Slowing my breath so that I hopefully go unnoticed, I wait as the daunting figure makes its way past me. The mask is on and the hair dark, so I am unable to distinguish who exactly this is. The mystery killer pauses beside me for a moment, and I fear I will have to cause another riot again by fighting for my life. But luckily the figure continues on, and I am grateful that the dolt did not try any spells. That could've been disastrous. Waiting a few moments, I finally resume standing and continue the same tedious pattern to get another two houses over. Looks like it's going to take a while.

All I can hope is that the knockoff Imperio curse worked, and that the building itself is as clear as possible when we finally arrive. That is more of a concern than the surrounding area, since there seems to be a limited amount of Voldemort bitches out here tonight. I wonder if perhaps it's a set up, but I can't let my mind stray to those alternatives. It's too scary of a concept.

Eventually, I get to the house I need to. Glancing around in the shadows, I search for an outline of Granger. So far I'm not seeing anything, and that's concerning. But I think I would've heard something if someone did locate her. She's Hermione Granger for fucks sake, everyone in this bloody country knows her. If a Death Eater located her again- on top of figuring out she can see- all hell would break loose. Yeah, I certainly would've heard that. It's best to wait and see if she appears.

Minutes drag on for eternity as I wait for her. Twice I duck down to avoid being seen, but still she doesn't turn up. I'm getting a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. Where is she?

Hands lock over my eyes, and I immediately let out a string of soft curse words as I am dragged to the ground. Urgent whispering catches my attention. "Malfoy… please, shut up."

My eyes flash and I shut up. Shoving the girl off of me I turn and glare at her, but she as whispered something and a moment later I cannot see her at all. Splendid, another fucking concealment spell. But half a second later I see her reasoning and still my breathing, silently searching out her hand; I don't want to lose her in this moment. There's a new Death Eater staring at us, as though trying to depict if someone is there or not. Feeling the brush of skin, I wrap my hand around Granger's own. Strangely, I notice that our fingers have interlaced, but for now I can't spare that a thought. Pulling her arm and hoping the girl keeps her breathing low, we take two tentative, soft steps back, slowly leaving the hooded menace's direct eye line. Turning to the side, I continue to guide her away. Well, at least she jumped and saved my arse before this person saw me- even if she almost got herself killed in the process. _Strange girl._

Perhaps all the stupid Death Eater's are located here, because this one doesn't seem to hear us either and continues on. Or perhaps it is the same person from before- the hair is dark as well. Oh well, it's not like I will stick around to find out.

I expect Granger to take the spell off so we can see each other, but she has other plans. Instead she starts to run, her quiet footfalls and the tug on my arm telling me so. I jog to keep up. Glancing around me, I wonder if perhaps someone has picked up on us. No one is around, so this must be a hurried stretch to get to the house. And a moment later, my theory is proven correct as we head to the front door of the establishment. This has to be the bloody house. But how does one get into the headquarters- or perhaps this is the genius of it all; it looks like any other place on the block.

Or maybe I was wrong. We pivot past the door reading thirteen, but stop before the next door. Peering over, I realize it says eleven. So are only the odd numbers on this side of the street?

My thoughts stop entirely as something strange happens. Eleven and Thirteen slide apart slowly, and I glance around. Anyone nearby has to know something is off now. Number twelve appears, and again the girl is eagerly pulling me in the direction she desires. Following without complaint, I continue to study the area. She might be excited that we are getting closer to helping these so called hostages, but I'm still weary of the building that just sprouted up. By the time she has opened the door I have my wand out, but so far there is no one in sight. My captive got rid of all of these men? I doubt that. She is dragging me inside when the sight of dark robes catches my attention in the night, and the distinct cry of _'hey'_ is a sure sign that we have been spotted. She pulls me the rest of the way in and I shut the door. Maybe this place will melt back where it was now.

The inside is just as dangerous as the outside. No one is in this direct entrance, but this place is quite strange looking. Hands still interlocked, she begins leading me up some stairs. At least she knows the layout here.

We are slowly creaking up the stairs when a figure up ahead appears. Those blasted Death Eater robes shine in the dim light, and I bite my lip as the figure slowly walks toward us. I grab Granger and press her into the wall, hoping neither of us will make a sound. This entire house has not been cleared as instructed, which means my spell did not have even strength in it or someone is tampering with the instructions. As the person passes, the hood is removed and my eyes flash at the person as he descends the stairs. There goes Rodolphus Lestrange- brother of Rabastan- and in the light I see red blood glistening on his robes. What is going on here?


	35. Chapter 34 H

**Disclaimer: **All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea.

**A/n: **Here's another chapter. Enjoyand don't forget to look at my facebook page! Thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

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Being pressed against the wall by Malfoy's lean body is not a situation I ever pictured finding myself in. He is toned and tall, and even though I can't see him I can sense his unease. I am feeling it too, and as this Death Eater begins to pass us he removes his hood. I vaguely recognize the person beneath but honestly I cannot name him, and that's really not what has my attention. All I can focus on is the glistening blood on his robes as he passes. Oh Merlin, whose blood is it?

Finding Malfoy after we got away was harder than I like to admit. He can be elusive when he wants to be, and I am grateful we both at least made it here. But it seems that his plan is not coming together perfectly, since Rabastan is supposed to have created a large diversion that would clear the house. He must've failed for one reason or another- else this is just a stray Death Eater who is late to the party. I just hope he continues on his way and doesn't sense us.

Thankfully, my hopes come true and he passes us without noticing. Malfoy slowly releases me and we step apart, but I find his hand again. It is a comfort to know that someone is nearby, even if it is Malfoy. After so long he has become someone I can trust, no matter how hard that is to believe. Tugging on his arm we continue, with me still in the lead. After seeing the blood I am hesitant to continue on, for fear of what we shall find.

As we reach the landing above I hear whimpering. The urge to rush off and leave Malfoy behind is strong, but I resist running ahead. Whoever is whimpering sounds like they are in pain, but if I lose Malfoy while we are under the concealment charm it could be tedious to find him again, especially since I don't know when we plan to remove this or when it's safe to. I simply squeeze his hand and continue on, hoping we spot whoever is in pain along the way. I need to know where the Death Eater's are at the moment, and looking for people behind closed doors is risky at the moment.

I also need to find the hostages, and I'm hoping that it's not an Order member that is in pain. Maybe the man we just passed beat up another Death Eater; that would be better.

The halls here are long, but it is strange now to see one that is so barren. Malfoy's plan did not work fully, so why is this place so empty? My heart speeds up as we hurry along.

Passing a door, I hear another groan, this one much louder. I pause and Malfoy bumps into me, nearly toppling us both into the floor. A moment later we chance everything and the concealment charm is removed.

"Must you have such an uneven walking pattern," he mutters, brushing himself off. I roll my eyes and turn back to the door, pressing my ear firmly against the wood. There it is again, that loud groan. Obviously no precautions have been taken to keep sounds suppressed to certain rooms, and my eyes widen at the noise.

"Someone is in there," I say, glancing around. My hand is on the doorknob before he grabs my wrist.

"And what if that person is the enemy," he hisses, looking around as well. Any minute someone could come out and see us.

I shake his hand off. "Well, we won't know anything if we don't look around," I snap in return, before turning the knob. It's a bit surprising that the door isn't locked, and I open it to find the room dark and unlit. Glancing at Malfoy I pull my wand out, and we wander inside. This time we don't grab hands. Behind me he shuts the door, securing us at least for a few minutes. So long as the enemy is not in here we can have a moment to breathe.

"Lumos," I say, watching the tip of my wand light. This place has never been exceptionally beautiful but it does have an interesting décor that I always found pleasurable. Now the once dusty but semi-neat space is littered with broken glass and what looks like dried blood. I cringe, remembering the attack I could not see before but left during. How much of this blood is from people I call my friends? The hallways were bad as well, but I tried not to think about it. Beside me Malfoy has a lit wand as well, and he is swinging his around far more than I am mine. I am still stomaching the sheer terror of what happened here. This war is seemingly escalating quickly, but what we really need is to find someone who can tell us how things stand.

"Granger," the blonde says, catching my attention. I finally look up from the floor I have been studying to observe what his light is illuminating. My eyes flash as I take in the figure on the floor. What was once luscious long red locks now appear tangled and in utter disarray. My breathe catches.

Ginny. She got me out- with Snape of course- and now she lies on the floor amidst the broken glass? It takes half a moment for me to stumble over to her and fall on my knees at her side. Malfoy follows, but he remains standing, providing me with some needed light to study Ginny. She looks horrible.

I shove her hair off her face and she groans again. The painful sounds I heard from outside the door were from her, and I nearly didn't come into this room. What a mistake that would've been. "Ginny," I say, shaking as I attempt to roll her over. "Ginny!" My voice is urgent but quiet.

Using my wand to move the glass from behind her, I roll her over on her back. The ginger's eyes remain closed but she whimpers in pain, and that assures me that she is alive. Without that audible noise I would've assumed her dead; the blood littering her face and chest has my heart hammering, and I can see in the dim light that there are bruises on her arms. Somebody's been torturing her.

"Ginny," I whisper again, removing the rest of her hair from her face. With one hand I try to shake her awake, and with the other I wave my wand over her body, chanting any healing charms I can think of to determine what is wrong with her. Outer damage I can see easily, but anything internal is much more difficult to handle. My wand is already picking up hints of dangerous wounds, wounds I am not entirely sure I know how to handle. Glancing at Malfoy, I plead at him with my eyes.

"Help me save her."

I can see the hesitation in his eyes, even now after he has declared that he has switched sides. He begins to walk away and for a moment I think he will abandon me entirely, but he stops by the wall and finds something I can't see, but he lights it. The light illuninates the shadows of the room a bit, and I cringe as I take in Ginny's appearance even more. It's horrid.

He's doing something else, but I can't wait anymore. Using my wand I begin healing as much as I can to stop the bleeding. I don't pay him any attention anymore, and work on her as much as I can. This is one of my friends; I can't just sit here and watch her die.

"Whoever beat her up is going to be returning soon," Malfoy says, reminding me that someone else is actually here in this place. I hardly spare him a glance.

"She's lost blood," I say, not letting my voice waver. "We have to get her out of here. How long is that Imperio curse supposed to last?" I inwardly cringe as I remember that diluted spell he cast. "We still have to find the other hostages."

"I don't know, it's not a spell I've dealt a lot with. We have already seen that it did not get the entire job done, else Rabastan simply missed Rodolphus."

"Rodolphus?"

"That's the man we passed coming up here. Granger, we're not exactly equipped to save a bunch of your haphazard Order members. If they are all in the same condition as she is, then we are in over our heads-"

"We're not leaving without them," I say determinably. I've done what I can; now I just need to get her up. I send a jet of water at her face, and finally her eyes crack open.

"Granger-"

"Ginny," I say excitedly, keeping my voice down. I think Malfoy turns around at this, but I am paying him no mind. The girl is slowly opening her eyes a second time, groaning in protest over what I can imagine is a lot of pain coursing throughout her body. "Ginny, stay awake Ginny," I continue, patting her cheek softly. She looks even worse now that I can see the predominate puffiness around her eyes.

"Hermione," she rasps, and I can hear how horrid her voice is. "What are you doing here?"

I sign in relief that she is at least awake. "I've come to save you." Looking away, I catch Malfoy watching the two of us by the door. "We have to move her."

"Yes, that sounds possible," he grumbles. "And do you propose we take her with us as we go searching for the other Order members?"

Now I'm hesitant. Those stairways were crowded when it was just Malfoy and I, but Ginny has lost substantial blood and I doubt she can walk now in her condition. Levitation would be unnecessary, which would mean that she would have to be carried by Malfoy since there is no way I can do it myself. And having him carrying her while searching for other people could be a problem.

A hand is pulling at my own, and I glance again at my friend. Through everything, somehow Ginny has managed to widen her eyes. "Hermione- your eyes; they're better."

I smile at this. Of course she would notice, I just didn't expect her to comment. "Yes," I reply simply, stroking her hair. I doubt we can take her anywhere. Looking around, I spot a soft looking loveseat from the corner of my eye. After standing and convincing Ginny that I wasn't leaving, I walked over and cleared it off before turning back to Malfoy.

"Can you move her here?"

He looks a bit put off at the idea of touching her, and Ginny seems perplexed to learn that someone else is here, but nonetheless Malfoy somehow shuts his bloody mouth and walks up to her, scooping my poor friend up in his arms. There is still some blood to be removed I see. Ginny shoots me a perplexed look as he moves her to the sofa.

"Malfoy is here?"

"Yes," I say quickly, walking back into her vision beside the blonde. "He is on our side, don't worry. I've had enough time with him to know he's not dangerous." Ginny opens her mouth to say something, but I shake my head. "Don't talk; you need to rest. And I have to speak with him for a moment."

She shoots me another tired look as I grab the blonde's hand and pull him away. Across the room and away from my friend I am conscious that we are on a timeline. The longer we wait here the more of a chance there is that we will be found out.

"We're inside," I hiss, looking at him. "To get back in here to the hostages would be exceptionally difficult. We can't leave without the others."

He frowns. "Then I'll have to ask again Granger; what do you propose we do?"

I bite my lip, glancing back at Ginny. "She has to know something about what's going on; if we ask she might be able to give us some hints. One of us could wait here and make sure that less Death Eater's get past this room to follow, but one of us is going to have to go searching Draco."

His eyes flash. "And you assume that you should go? I can't do anything here; I have no idea where I am going."

I nod slowly. "It would be best-"

"It would be fucking dangerous-"

"Everything is dangerous," I argue. "But we have to talk to Ginny first. She is going to have our answers- or at least know more than we do."

"Fine," he grumbles, turning away. "We will talk to the ginger about what has been going on, but don't think that means that you are just going alone Granger." We walk back, and I can feel the high tension. Why is he so against me going alone? He does plenty of reckless, dangerous things!


	36. Chapter 35 H

**Disclaimer: **All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea.

**A/n: **Here's another chapter. I'm super sorry that it took so long to get up, but life got in the way. And on a side note, this chapter was extremely hard for me to write after yesterday. I'm not sure if it made global news but I don't see why it wouldn't; a bunch of five year olds and teachers got killed in an elementary school here in the States on the 14th, so writing the contents of this chapter hurt my heart a bit. If you were affected by that story, hold off on reading this for a bit. It's not exceptionally gruesome, but while writing it that story was all I could think about :( Enjoy and don't forget to look at my facebook page! Thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

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Draco Malfoy is one of the most difficult people I know. We finally got Ginny to talk, and everything she said slowly broke my heart. The only reason that there are any survivors at all is because the Death Eater's needed someone to question, and with the absence of Ron and Harry, Ginny became the best target. That's why she is separated from the others, because interrogating her seemed to be their goal. I think that they are hoping that something will slip from her lips after the torture, and they can possibly find a sneakier way into Hogwarts.

She told us that everyone else is one floor up in a different room, at least the last time she saw any of them. I can tell that her memory is foggy, and I hope that we can get her and the others out soon. If they are in the same state as her then I'm not sure how many will come out alive with us. She couldn't recall who was up there, just that the amount is terrifyingly small. Many were killed in the initial attack.

But Malfoy continues to be a pain. We have already gone over many options after speaking to Ginny, and it's obvious she cannot be alone. But he is persistent that I cannot go searching alone either. Merlin, he's bloody difficult.

"We don't know who else is still here," he argues. "Rabastan did not get everyone out of here, as we have clearly seen. We don't know how many remain."

"And the longer we stand here the less time we will have to benefit from your spell. The effects are wearing off as we speak, and we need as much time as we can get. You don't know this place like I do, so sending you is ridiculous. Moreover, aside from a few limited people, everyone on the Order's side still believes you are a Death Eater. No one will trust you if you do find them. Ginny can't remain here alone in her condition, so you must stay."

His eyes narrow at me. "And how do you propose I find you later? If something goes wrong neither of us will know until it's too late."

I shake my head slowly. "It's a chance, but there isn't much we can do. Leave if you want to take a safer road Draco, but I will not leave all these people to die." I move to walk past him, but he catches my arm.

"We are going off the vague statements of someone who was nearly killed. She isn't in her right mind right now Hermione. There could be no more survivors for all we know; she could be the last one."

And this is something I can simply not tolerate. Jerking my arm away, I turn and look up at him again. "Don't say that," I snap, balling up my hands, "I need to believe there is still someone here to save." Slowly, I back away.

"You're really intent on doing this then," he sighs, running fingers through his hair. "You're determined to go alone?"

I nod. "If circumstances were different than you would be coming with me, but Ginny has been a friend of mine for years and I won't leave her alone to suffer again; at least you will have a wand- Circe knows where hers is anymore." I glance back at the door. "But we will have time to discuss this once I'm back. We have to keep this room guarded. Throw up some shielding charms so the Death Eater's are deterred from coming in here again. You have to know some powerful ones."

His eyes flash, and I suppress the urge to comment on that fact. It's been a while since either of us have been on our own in a dangerous situation, and it's a bit nerve-wracking to think about going back to it. The last time I had to fend for myself, I lost my ability to see. Merlin knows what horrors he has seen inside that Manor, but I doubt it was anything pleasant. The run to this place was terrifying enough, and it is a bit disheartening to think about leaving his side again. I prefer the comfort that is given with strength in numbers, something that will be absent the moment we split apart. But ignoring the survivors here simply so I can be comfortable in the presence of others just won't do. There's not exactly a guarantee that we will see one another again, but then, there never was. The concern I can see in his eyes just makes me more afraid of branching out on my own. But I am Hermione Granger, and I can't just leave people here. Hopefully, his absence from my side will be short lived.

The next moment though is something I wasn't predicting. This cold hearted being reaches two arms out to lock on my shoulders, dragging me from my current position into his chest, those same arms locking around me in a hug. Stunned, it takes a moment for me to respond and hug him in return. Of all the people I have shared comfort with, this is the last person I ever expected to show compassion. He's honestly that concerned?

It only lasts for a moment before he releases, and I take this as a sign to step back. As I do, I meet his silver slits once more, the emotion behind them attacking my soul.

"You better come back Hermione."

* * *

Wandering alone is a lot more nerve-wracking than I anticipated. Twice I spot another loose Death Eater and prepare to attack, and twice I am thankfully unnoticed. But with all these people wandering around, I worry that Ginny and Draco will be found, since they are just staying in one place. I don't know what kind of dark magic he would use, but will it be enough to keep the barricade up until I return? And what's more, I still haven't completely figured out how to move all of these people down a floor, let alone out of this building.

It's a slow process checking the rooms. Every time I crack a door open my heart beat accelerates, waiting to see if my choice is correct. I have only opened five doors so far in this long stretch, and one concealed a Death Eater- thankfully, he was turned away. I have no idea who he was but I did not linger to find out. It's odd that none of these doors have a lock yet, and that worries me again about Malfoy and Ginny. Now they will surely draw attention to themselves if someone attempts to open the door. Perhaps I don't have as much time to look as I thought.

There's no real way for me to know how long I am up here searching, but slowly the hallway becomes shorter and shorter until I reach the end. There were only a few rooms with Death Eaters, but no captives. I'm beginning to lose hope. After nearly being killed by a Death Eater who almost discovered me, my desire to remain in this dangerous situation is dwindling down to nothing. But there's a final door, and if they are not here I will have to assume the worst; everyone's been killed.

Thankfully, despite the crude attitude many of Voldemort's loyal servants exclude, the place isn't littered with the bodies of the dead. Someone removed them, and I cannot imagine what happened. The bodies could've been burnt; buried, thrown outside and hidden under a masking spell- the possibilities are endless. I'm hoping though that the survivors have not joined the deceased yet.

This door is different from the others- as I get near there is a strong urge to turn away. But I know this has to be a spell of some sort, and I force myself to grip the door handle. A headache is quickly developing in my head; it must be a side effect because I ignored the urge to turn away. I whisper a protection spell, but it only eases the pain in my head a bit. Whatever was placed on the door is powerful, and it certainly does not want me to get any further.

I am surprised when the doorknob turns, but a moment later I'm stumbling back into the wall. The knob itself is searing hot, and won't open. Ignoring the fact that I'm possibly bleeding- or at least have developed a serious mark- I place another hex over my hand and up my arm so that it goes numb. Now I won't be able to feel it if it hurts again.

This time I am able to turn the doorknob, but it refuses to open. Thankfully no one has come to inspect up here, so I must not have made a lot of noise when I stumbled. I rattle down a list of unlocking spells that I know, each more complex than the last. I'm nearly about to give up, when the door gives way and opens a crack. Thank Merlin.

The stench that attacks my nose immediately lets me know that I'm not going to like this. It smells like rotting flesh, and it has my stomach turning as I push open the door and sneak inside. The door pulls out of my grasp and shuts behind me, locking me into this dark, foul space. I hesitate many moments before I finally light my wand to take a look around.

It was a bad idea. If I wanted to know what really happened to the dead, I may have found my answer. The floor isn't littered with heaps of bodies like it would be if everyone that had been killed lay up here. No, some of the blood on the floor is still red and fresh in front of me, and I am thankful that my wand only lights a small space. But I'm biting back a cry as I take in the faces of people I have known for years; the Patil twins lay nearby, and I'm gasping as I suppress the upcoming scream. More than ever, I wish I had brought Draco along. If all I did was find an unfinished tomb, then my search is futile and all the survivors are likely dead.

I force myself to wait, gulping painfully hard in an attempt to calm my nerves. I shut my eyes, almost wishing I was blind and couldn't see, just so I wouldn't have to take in what I am seeing. Yes this is war, but it's always the worst when its people you know- or when it's something horrific. And if the multiple wounds on the girl's faces tell me anything then I know that death was not easy to come by.

Part of me needs to look and see if my friends lay with the dead, but I can't make myself move. I'm trying to be quiet, trying to wait and see if I can hear _anything_; if someone is still in here- alive- I'll brave the horrors to save them. I can't leave before I know there is nothing here.

Something catches my attention, and I don't want to open my eyes. Nearby shuffling has my ears straining to tell if it's real or not, and I don't want to open my eyes only to find out that the hopeful side of my mind is playing tricks on me.

But there- a groan. I let my eyes open, avoiding looking at the ground best I can as I look around. There's another, and hesitantly I wander in the direction of the sound. Past the door the bodies continue, and I pick out a few Order members I barely ever got the chance to know. It's depressing to think that I will never have another chance to speak to any of them.

My heart nearly stops at what I find a few feet ahead. A body is attempting to drag itself out from beneath another, and it takes me a moment to realize just who it is. And then I'm running, collapsing at his side and daring to shove the lifeless form of someone else from his legs. Tears want to prickle down my cheeks in sheer relief that at least someone can survive such horrors, but I shove them back as I take in his frightened, blood dried face.

"Neville… thank Merlin you're alive."

I can tell he's confused by my presence, and he blinks repeatedly in the light of my wand before speaking. "Hermione… what are you doing here? You can't be here- you'll die."


	37. Chapter 36 H

**Disclaimer: **All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea.

**A/n: **Enjoyand don't forget to look at my facebook page! Thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

A reviewer responded to an old review-reply about the stats if this story, particularly the comparison between Draco and Hermione perspective chapters. I'm not sure any of you besides that sole person care, but in case you do here they are:

Draco perspective chapters= 21 chapters, 364 combined reviews, 17 reviews on average; 40,638 hits, about 1,935 hits on average per chapter.

Hermione perspective chapters= 14 chapters, 239 combined reviews, 17 reviews on average; 23,278 hits, about 1,662 hits on average per chapter.

* * *

For a moment, I don't even register what he has said. I'm swinging my arm around to examine the damage, discovering old, mistreated wounds that look infected. I may know a few good healing spells, but some of the complications look beyond my skill level, just like Ginny's wounds. These people are monsters.

When I finally realize he has spoken, I shake my head. "What?"

"You'll die! You can't be here. You have to get out now before someone comes back."

I crouch down, looking him straight in the eyes. He's scared- I know he is- but I will not leave him alone that easily. "I don't care Neville. Ginny told me-"

"Ginny," he whispered, as though in disbelief, "She's alive?"

Nodding slowly, I lift an eyebrow. "Did you presume otherwise?"

He pursed his lips, and I notice a flicker of pain dance across his face. Aiming my wand, I attempt to heal some of the wounds while we talk. I can't possibly get him out of here in this condition. "I thought she would've let herself die by now."

This catches me off guard, and I glance back at his face again. "What do you mean? Ginny is strong; what would make her want to die?"

But he just shakes his head. "I'll tell you Hermione, but not now. You have to get to safety before someone returns." His eyes jump around the dark space, as though expecting a Death Eater to appear at any moment. "It's not safe here. Take yourself somewhere you can apparate before anyone finds you, or you will suffer greater pains than those who litter the ground.

I wince. Neville is very blatant about the bodies littering the floor, which is so unlike him. Here stands a boy that used to flinch at pain, who lost his parents through such awful circumstances, but brushes off the masses of death lying before us. I don't want to consider what happened here to harder his emotions so. Instead of replying, I change subjects entirely.

"Where are the others," I ask, paying as much attention to the space as he is. The moment someone enters I have to know, or we will be easily found. I continue to heal the gashes, but just like Ginny he will need some blood replenishing potions, and soon.

He shakes his head, and I can feel his forehead brushing my side in his crouched position. "Many Aurors were gone or escaped when we were ambushed. Snape was among us, though I will spare you the details of what became of him. He no longer walks this earth anymore- or at least not with the living. I-I don't want to go through the list of who they killed looking for Harry, but… it was bad. I'm lucky I'm alive."

"Who else is alive," I plead, helping him stand. I don't want to remain here anymore, not with the danger lurking just outside the door. The stench of rotting flesh is suffocating, and I can't imagine how Neville is feeling.

"I don't know. I haven't tried to speak to anyone in many hours, maybe days. It's so hard for me to keep track of the time in here."

I nod slowly, swinging my wand around. There is a suffocating silence here, and accompanied by the lush red rivers of blood it's something straight from the Stephen King novels I used to read. Horror is etched into the very structure of this building now, and the violence that took place here lingers in the air. This place is forbidden, and although I must search for other survivors, I fear this scene may stay with me from the rest of my existence.

A thorough- though rushed- search of the gory scene breaks my heart as I realize the others are gone. No voices or cries for help fill the air, no eyes slide to meet mine. The spirits of everyone here have moved on, and I am helpless to do anything for their remaining flesh. There is no way I can bury them, or even straighten out the mess; it will draw too much attention. I drag a limping Neville to the door and can't quite force myself to look back as we depart. If I look on at the space any longer I fear I will fall to pieces; it's gruesome.

"Hold onto me," I say, slipping my arm around his waist. "I'm going to use a concealment charm on us so prowling Death Eater's pay us no mind, but we have to be as quiet as possible. I need to be sure that we can move semi-quickly, so we can get back to them."

"Them? Who exactly are you talking about?" But I silence him with two fingers pressing to his lips, silently shaking my head as I cast the spell. I lose sight of him and sigh. So begins the dangerous trek back.

It feels like so little is being accomplished over such long spans of time.

* * *

It's a relief to find that nothing has gone horribly wrong in my absence between Draco and Ginny. Indeed, she still looks as awful as ever, but at least he's not trying to kill her. My arrival however stirs up commotion in the small space.

Dragging a half alive Neville with me probably doesn't help matters at all.

"Well shit," Draco mutters, immediately getting up from where he was resting. Ginny attempts to sit up and see what's going on, but I demand that she stays horizontal. I don't need people in any worse condition.

Getting Neville pulled off my side is a huge relief. Considering how much he relied on me for support, I'm surprised we didn't fall over. I am strong, but he is heavy and quite a bit larger than me in size. In comparison to Malfoy, he's slightly smaller, and the blonde easily moves him across the room to lie on the floor. I notice Ginny's eyes widening from the corner of my own, but I can't think about that right now.

"Fuck Granger," Malfoy's saying as he pulls back a stained shirt to reveal wounds I had completely looked over in the dim space. Slashes linger here on his chest, and I bite my lip. He's in horrible condition, and even as Malfoy begins healing the wounds I know we are in for a problem.

Both Neville and Ginny are in severe conditions, and if either I or Draco mess something up one of them could die on the way out. This thought settles into my mind as I turn away. Yes, getting out will be a tricky matter to deal with.

A few minutes pass, during which time I can hear Neville whimpering; I help as much as I can, but the memory of what lay behind that door haunts my very mind, and I have a hard time looking on at Neville without visions of piles and piles of rotted bodies popping into my mind. When there is no more we can do for him I'm practically shaking.

It's at this time that Draco takes me away to the far side of the room. The unusual placement of his hand on my back does little to comfort me, and I don't meet his eyes as we start walking.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I say, though it sounds like a lie even to me. If he catches the shake in my voice though, he has nothing to say about it.

"We can't stay here," he continues, crossing his arms. It bothers me that he seems so unaffected by what is going on around us, though it could all be a mask. This is Malfoy, and though I have spent more than enough time with him parts of his demur still throw me off. He didn't see the horrors in that room, nor did he drag a half alive body back here. I suppose he doesn't have as much to fear about this place.

_Yet._

"I know. We are lucky this place has been left alone so long. Staying any longer will be pushing it."

"Agreed," he says, though his eyes jump around my face. I get the feeling that he is studying me, looking for signs of fear that I'm holding back. If I let anything out right now I may just have to cry; it's sad what happened in there, and what is probably happening to other innocent people around Britain. "How do you propose we move the nearly dead ones though?"

I flinch at his choice of words but glance back at the pair. If they are the only ones who come out of this hostage situation alive it's a truly disappointing thing. How can people take lives so easily, without a single regret? "I don't know yet." I reply quietly, looking on at them with concern. "But we have to do something. We have to make sure someone knows that we intend to find them."

"That's a brilliant idea Hermione, just one problem; how do we do that? We have no contact with anyone."

"Not yet." I pull out my wand, finally looking back at him. Whispering quiet words, I step over to Draco's side as the figure of my patronus appears, smiling lightly as the blonde's eyebrows shoot up.

"You can cast a patronus?" he asks, sounding more than a bit awestruck.

"Yes, I've been able to for a while." Glancing at him, my smile widens to a grin. "You can't cast one?"

He scoffs. "Well of course I can Granger! I am skilled in the dark arts; something as simple as a patronus is no match for me."

"Have you ever even attempted the spell?" I ask, not believing for a damn minute that he is capable of performing one if he is so awestruck by mine.

To this, he turns. "The patronus charm isn't one that I was required to learn," he says quietly, killing the calm moment. I had been enjoying the useless banter between us, but he quickly put a stop to it. I should've known; these are serious times and I am trying to provide comic relief like Ron would instead of remaining levelheaded like I usually am.

"Oh," is all I say in return, rubbing my head awkwardly. The blissful moment is past, and it's time to get serious again. "When should we leave?"

"Now would be good, or within the hour," he mutters. "We are taking a chance every moment we remain here. The sooner we get out the better, and the more energy your friends will have. We'll have to move quickly, and get somewhere we can apparate to safety."

"Agreed. So an hour is all we have to prepare then."

The blonde glances back at me over his shoulder. "And that's probably too long."

* * *

This departure is more dangerous than the last. The fact that we even came here was foolish, but even if I can only save two souls, I am glad it's these two souls. Merlin knows who exactly fell, but all I know is that I hope neither Ron nor Harry met a bitter end.

Draco is in front of me somewhere, though I can't tell exactly where. Neville is with him- and he's probably horrified by this- because I had such a difficult time moving him across flat surfaces. Walking down the stairs would've been bad, and already Ginny is a heavy burden on the right side of my body. I wonder how far away an apparation point is, and if we will even make it before we are discovered. There are more Death Eater's roaming the halls than ever, and it's a bother to consider how crowded those staircases will be. I only hope Neville and Ginny don't suffer more.

For some reason, knowing Malfoy is out here with me settles my nerves a bit. When we get out of this house I'll find him and Neville at the meet-up point, and hopefully we can travel the rest of the way without the need for invisibility spells. These things can be unreliable in certain lights at the worst of times.

Today however, they prevail. We get outside without a mishap, and I find Draco quickly enough. I can see it in Neville and Ginny's eyes that they don't trust his presence, but honestly they don't get a say in it. If he is choosing to help us, they should have no complaints.

"How far off do you think their wards go? We can't apparate until we get past them."

Draco nods. "Usually Voldemort had us cast them between a mile and a mile and a half out; the Manor is three miles, but that's only because he's made it his fucking home." He shakes his head. "If this place is the center point, we have a lot of hauling to do."

Suppressing a groan, I grimace. My body is tired as well, however I can walk on my own. Extending an arm, I help Ginny stand again, trying to ignore the pain written on her features. In the growing light, it's obvious that she is in enormous amounts of pain.

It's going to be a long walk to safety.

* * *

**A/n: **Hello readers! Yes, again, it's late. December is just not my month! I apologize for the suspended time between updates, but I ended up going out of town unexpectedly for a funeral and just returned. I didn't bring my laptop or flash drive with, so this was just written. Sorry for the long amount of time, and I hope everyone's holidays were well! Please leave a review at the bottom and I'll surprise everyone with super-fast updates!

In case anyone is curious, there are about ten chapters left, maybe a few more. That's not a lot for this story!


	38. Chapter 37 D

**Disclaimer: **All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea.

**A/n: **Here we are again! This chapter is a bit different from the others recently but variation is always good. Major things will blossom up in the next chapter so here's our building suspense :DEnjoyand don't forget to look at my facebook page! Thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

* * *

Hauling Granger's friends through the shadows is not my idea of a pleasant day. We are making little progress with all this dead-weight hanging us down, and part of me wants to simply push Longbottom to the side and continue without him holding me back. But Hermione will not do the same; these are her friends, and even if they weren't she would likely be dead set on getting them to safety. The problem is my distraction spell has likely worn off by now, which means the Death Eaters are openly prowling these parts again. My eyes constantly dance over the building nearby, and more than once I glance behind myself to make sure Granger's invisibility spells aren't wearing off. If either of us become careless with our magic it could cost us all our lives.

The smell of fresh blood has thankfully disappeared over time, and I now imagine that it has all either dried or the wounds have been closed. When I first started helping Neville back at base I nearly threw him off when I felt the stickiness of wet blood on my hands. We can't help them anymore than we already have until we find safety, or get past the barriers.

I glance behind me again for a brief moment. I can't see Hermione, but I know she's there. We follow the same path, stopping whenever one of us brushes the other. We walk close enough to perform this action at any moment; just because they can't see us doesn't mean someone won't _hear_ us walking along the streets. Voldemort always taught his followers that you can find someone from the Order's side through more means than your eyes and magic, the same with interrogation. Granger is proof of the methods of torture and interrogation the Death Eater's will go to, and I have known many who will use whatever dark spells they can think of to sniff out someone nearby. It's vile really.

When we stop to give the wounded a break for a moment, I am more than a bit surprised that Longbottom wishes to speak to me in private. I drag him away from the girls to a point where they are still in sight but will not hear us.

"What is it?"

He shakes his head once, and I can see just how very weary he is. "Why are you helping Hermione?" he asks after a moment.

I scoff. "I believe I'm helping all three of you; I'm lugging your weight around aren't I?"

Neville just shakes his head. "We both know… know that's not what I mean. When she b-brought me back from that room, you two w-went off and spoke privately." He gulps, and I can't decide if its pain or blood loss that is causing the stutter. Either way, I'm not about to bring it up.

"I spoke privately with her because we had to plan how to get you and Weasley back to the rest of the Order alive."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why?" he croaks, supporting himself on the wall behind him. We've cloaked ourselves for this short time at the back of the alley, making sure to cover the space above us as well. We can't remain here too long though. "Why are you helping? Y-you hate us all, and you're a D-"

"Yes, I'm a Death Eater," I cut in, crossing my arms angrily. "I'm quite aware of that, and so is she. We started talking again under these circumstances, and although it might be unknown to you I am one of the reasons she got out of my Manor alive at all. I also got her fucking eyes fixed, although I know that probably sounds completely unbelievable as well! You know nothing about me Longbottom, so don't presume that my title defines who I am. People change and I am apparently no exception."

The boy tilted his head slightly and nearly toppled over, but I reach out and break his fall when I notice Hermione peering over at us. I might be angry but I kept my voice low, which means she has been observing us. How lovely.

"The question remains however," Neville says once I have gotten him to sit on the ground. "P-perhaps you really have changed and have decided to try and be good by helping our side, but I have to wonder what m-made you change your m-mind."

I click my tongue. "I may have changed Longbottom, but that doesn't make me an open book. I am sure you're most curious, but trust me when I say I have no intentions of indulging you in what's been happening to me as of late. They are not my secrets alone to share, and some of them I think would certainly upset Granger if anyone did find out about them. She was held prisoner there for a while after all."

He flinches lightly, as do most of the people whenever I mention this little fact. In his silence I take up the opportunity to consider our distance. We are nearing a mile but I don't believe we are out yet. It has to be at least another half mile, which just means more walking for us. I would kill for a broom at this point.

"I'm not sure what changed you," he says, drawing me from my thoughts, "But I suppose I can't complain. You're helping us, and you seem to know how to avoid your own- the Death Eaters. We would have a harder time getting around without you."

"Granger wouldn't even be able to lug both of you," I reply, glancing back at her. She's trying to haul the ginger to her feet, which means we must be moving again in a moment. "Give me a sec."

I quickly make my way over to Granger, softly touching her shoulder as I pass to instigate that we need to talk. She picks up the message easily enough and detaches herself from the she-weasel long enough to join me just a few feet away.

"When we reach the barrier there will be more Death Eater's around; they're going to try everything possible to keep outsiders from getting to the captives, unless Saint Potter decides to make an entrance."

"He won't," she replies with a shake of her head. "We can't be too close then since the throng of Voldemort lovers is still thin. The house is swarmed, and the barrier will be swarmed, so we must be someplace in the middle."

A quick nod confirms that these are my thoughts as well. "Indeed. Is she ready to go? We have to keep moving; the day only has so many hours. When night falls again those dark cloaks will have more of an advantage than we would in the shadows."

She blinks slowly, processing what I just said. "It's already been a day?"

"Well, the majority of one. Navigating through the streets while avoiding guards is tedious business; we can't waste time sitting here."

"They have to try and gain some strength Draco. They've been through a lot and we are lucky their bodies have held so long."

"Perhaps," I say, shrugging. "The sooner we can leave the better. Though I do have a question."

"What is it?"

Glancing at her, I search her face. She seems to tense up at my request, though I don't see why she should. What does she think I'm going to say? "What did you send to the Order in your patronus? You didn't tell them our location did you?"

"I told them it, yes," she says, and I fix a hard glare on her. "I also told them it would be changing that same night. They only know that we have some survivors and are making our way to an apparition point. I told them to not respond, since I have no idea where we will be at that time. Hopefully when we get past the barrier I can send another and get a couple Auror's to pick us up, since we won't be able to ever apparate into Hogwarts."

I shift. "They will be expecting us then."

"More or less."

Nodding, I turn away. "Then I hope we make it there." I move to walk back to Longbottom, but she catches my shoulder. Curious, I glance back at her.

"What were you and Neville talking about," she asks eyes wide. I frown, wondering what she fears he may have said.

I brush her off, continuing on my way. "Nothing of importance."

* * *

I'm surprised how long we have gone without encountering a Death Eater walking towards us. Sure, we have seen a number nearby but it had been a great many steps since one walked the same line we did. I suppose it's a relief, but it's also very curious. If we are nearing the barrier why does it appear that the number of Death Eater's are lessoning. Have their guard patterns changed or is something else building that we do not yet see?

I fear it's the second, and that causes me to glance back at Granger more than normal. Beside me, Longbottom continues to fidget as I lug him along. I want to bark at him to quit, but I can tell he is just as restless as I. It's so unusual to see so few guards, yet I almost feel more eyes on me. Something is certainly coming, and it's not going to be pretty.

Hopefully whatever is coming will strike after we get past the barrier, though that's a useless hope. The only thing that could be pursuing us is the Death Eater's, and they aren't likely to wait for us to get to an opportune location. I'm certain they are the eyes I feel on me, but I can't seem to find them.

Glancing back at the girls again, my heart stops cold. Granger's spell is wearing low again, and I can make out their forms as they continue to walk. It appears that she is supporting the ginger more and more, but that's not what breaks my heart; it is the cry I hear following my turn.

"Conjunctivitis Curse," someone cries, and I'm shoving Longbottom away from my form into the ground as the curse narrowly misses a dodging set of girls. They fall to the ground- with Hermione on top- and I vaguely hear the ginger whimper in pain as her friend's body smashes her beaten one. It's a moment later that my concealment spell has been renewed, and I am searching deserpatly for the attacker. I can't quite let my old associates see that I've switched- _yet. _

"Replace the concealment charm over yourself," I cry, attracting Granger's attention. I hide Longbottom and Weasley again, pushing them out of the way with my feet. I can hear people growing close. Fucking wonderful; attackers and we have nowhere to hide. And we were so very close to what I presume would be the barrier. Would figure, wouldn't it?

"How do we move Neville and Ginny if we can't see them?" Granger hisses from somewhere beside me. I'm glad she's hidden, but she does have a point. We have to defend ourselves and two invisible people from whatever slew of people are coming our way, and it's going to be difficult. Then something clicks in my mind.

_Conjunctivitis Curse;_ when used properly the dark magic can permanently blind someone. My heart drops as I see the first Death Eater's appearing.

"Can you see?"

Silence follows my question, and I know something is wrong. I reach out and thankfully find her arm. "Can you?!"

"It's a temporary spell," she whispers, tensing up as another three attackers appear. I'm quick to hex two of them into a temporary sleep, and Granger takes out two more from what I can tell. All those weeks of having no eyes has really trained her.

"It's not a good thing Hermione," I hiss, looking around. More and more keep appearing. "We're being ambushed."

"I gathered that."

Repositioning my grip as I curse another Death Eater, I whisper into her ear, "Brace yourself; this is going to be tricky." I feel her nodding against my shoulder, and then I shove her away. "Stay against the wall; I'll keep them at bay as long as I can."

There's no time to wait for her response, and I hurry away to take down another. They already know we are hidden, and a quick glance confirms my suspicions that Longbottom and Weasley have not been forgotten and already there are people prowling near where I shoved them, looking- searching. The sudden onslaught is too much to handle with a temporarily blinded Granger and two useless, wounded Order members. Were I still with Voldemort, I might be laughing if someone else were in this position. No wonder the Order is so careful; bad things seem to happen to their people.

From above I spot something white, and chancing a look up I spot a white bird- an owl. It looks strangely familiar, and inside I cringe as realization dawns on me. Bloody fucking hell.

"Stupefy!" The cry rings out as one of the enemies falls to the ground, and I reluctantly stop attacking as a shower of spells attack the Death Eaters. I already know what's coming, and it sure as hell isn't going to be fun.

The Death Eater's fall back for now, and I assume they will wait for more of their own to arrive instead of being captured. As the last few fall back into the shadows I remove the concealment spell, earing myself many puzzled looks as the arriving Order members spot me. More than a few wands turn in my direction.

"Granger," I hiss, deciding it will not help my case to use her real name. "Come out and tell your moronic friends to put their wands away."

She appears a moment later, rubbing her eyes. It's obvious that the temporary spell is hurting her, but I make no move to help her; not now. "Who's here?"

"The bloody Order," I mutter, looing away from them. One face stands out among the rest, and I just have to roll my eyes at the boy's stupidity. Really, he is the most important wizard in Britain right now and he chooses to come on a dangerous mission like this? It's apparent that he has noticed me as well as he moves in closer.

"Malfoy?"

"Potter."


	39. Chapter 38 H

**Disclaimer: **All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea.

**A/n: **So, to make a long story short I don't have a laptop anymore so I have to do all updates from my boyfriends! Sorry that the chapters might be infrequent! This chapter is very sad, so be prepared. Thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

* * *

When the spell has finally worn off, I have to say it's more than a bit amusing to watch Harry and Draco sit in the same room together. After ridding ourselves of the remaining Death Eater's we took the fastest road out to the Forbidden Forest where a safe house has been located, and its apparently used more as an apparation point to get to the Order more than anything. From there, we traveled about a mile before we found this cave, and through the cave we took a tunnel that led into the castle, actually near where the Slytherin common room is supposedly located within Hogwarts. It wasn't a surprise when Draco knew the path to get back out almost better than the Order members leading us. Perhaps having a Slytherin for help isn't too bad.

Ginny and Neville were put under extensive care. Right now I don't know much about their conditions, just that neither of them have passed on, which is good. The only person I haven't seen yet is Ron, and I asked someone earlier about him, but they just gave me a distressed look and turned away. That's not so good.

Mainly, we're up here so Harry and some of the others can evaluate Malfoy. Already Harry and Draco have exchanged more ridiculous insults than ever before and the both look exceptionally worn. I haven't paid much attention to how Malfoy looks as far as wear until now, but it's obvious that the difficult demands of war have taken a toll on his appearance. The impeccable look is gone, though with the dirt smudges and too dirty clothing it gives him the appearance of a hero, and that in itself is remarkable. Malfoy, a hero!

I make sure to leave when Remus and some of the others enter, since I am not supposed to be around when he is interrogated. Malfoy has to prove that he has changed on his own and stand alone before the heads of the Order. With my eyes feeling better, I wander around and see how everything has been set up. But more than anything on my walk, I encounter people. So many faces that I couldn't even see the last time I was here now look at me in amazement that I am healed. And I give them the honest answer when asked how; Draco helped me. Everyone who asks me leaves with a confused, struck expression on their faces. Well, maybe it'll help Malfoy a bit. It's all dependent on whether or not he can prove that he's changed that the Order will decide if he is truly going to be helpful, and fight.

I think he will. There are many shades to Draco, and although he comes off heartless- and sometimes completely afraid of everything intimidating- there are different levels to his personality. He can be kind and even caring if he chooses to be. Merlin knows I wouldn't be able to see, and I wouldn't be alive if he didn't have a heart and feelings somewhere in that body

That's something I pointed out to Harry as I left the room. Those people talking to him don't know him as a person, but as a figure that has been manipulated many, many times to fit whatever the dominate person wants him to be. He was a spoiled brat who hated people like me for his father, then a death Eater in training for that man, and now he's another of the multiple pawns that have been trained by Voldemort as killing machines. But I think Malfoy could aspire to being more than a murderer in his lifetime.

It's better that he's here now than with his family. Our lives would be different if he had never decided to have the courage to go against everything ever drilled into his mind. I'm thankful he decided to change.

I'm so lost in my thoughts that I don't even process where I'm walking until I bump into someone. Glancing up I get excited for a moment that I've finally located Ron, until I register the _faces, _and realize its Fred and George instead.

"Hey Hermione," George says as I step away from him to lean against the opposite wall. They both smile at me, but they are tight smiles; no teeth show through. I frown, thinking that the pair look like they have been stripped of joy. This is very different from the twins that own a prank shop, the ones that always have something to say and laugh constantly. I get a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"Hey," I respond, giving them a smile with teeth that feels fake even to me. I know there is no joy in it, but they look so downtrodden that I have to at least attempt it. "What's wrong with the pair of you? You look so sad."

They exchange a glance, and something passes between them that goes unsaid. "We're worried about Ginny," Fred said, attempting a second smile. George doesn't join in, just watches my face. This is very unusual.

"I would think so. But we got her here in time, so I'm sure someone has already got her stitched up and good as new." They flinch simultaneously at my word choice, and my brow creases. "Something wrong?"

"Nothing," they reply harmoniously, straightening up.

I shake my head, watching them both sadly. They are lying to me, but for now I can't fret. "Have either of you seen Ron? I've asked everyone about him- well, everyone except Harry- and no one has seen him around. Actually, no one will even tell me about him. It's like they avoid the topic of him entirely."

There it is the answer to their odd behavior. At the mention of their brother both boys look furious and horrified at the same time. Those are expressions of pain, loss, remorse. The sick feeling in my stomach is back; something's happened to him.

"I haven't _seen_ him in a long time," I continue uncomfortably, glancing between them to the wall. "Last time I was here, I couldn't see. We spoke, but he was too frightened to talk to me a lot. We never discussed a lot about the war either; he wanted to stay off the topic from what I remember. The day that I left the Order again was the day Grimmauld Place got attacked and ambushed. Ron went out with Harry, but Harry hasn't said a word about him."

Fred pursed his lips, but George looked away. I frowned. They wouldn't answer me, and I _needed _them to answer. I needed to know what had happened to my best friend.

"No one told you then," George said finally, his voice shaking just slightly. "No one told you what happened?" I shake my head.

"It probably doesn't matter that you never got to ask Harry," Fred continued, his voice a bit stronger, "Because he wouldn't tell you. He blames himself, like always. He won't talk about it at all, like so many people here." His eyes move and meet mine. "You know the barrier around Hogwarts's goes out to the bridge, don't you?"

"Yes, and further than the walls around the castle. It covers a good portion of the land."

"Yes, it does," George agreed, looking sadder than I have ever seen either twin. He glanced at his brother, who nodded once. "We think there's something you should see Hermione, since no one else is going to show you."

Those words send chills down my bones, and although I don't want to follow them I do. They take me down many flights of stairs, out onto the school grounds. There are Death Eater's just beyond the barrier, and it's terrifying to see them so close. They are lurking just outside our walls, ready to come in and tear us all apart.

"They can't see us," George muttered, catching my attention. McGonagall put up a shield so no one can see what we're doing, so we can walk in peace. They linger beyond the barrier though, hoping that someone will try to enter or leave and they'll be able to sneak in."

"We can see them, but they can't see us," Fred finished. "Sometimes I wish it went both ways, just so we weren't always looking out at death.

_Death. _It seems like that word is everywhere nowadays, and it will remain until this war comes to a close. But that's only going to happen if Harry wins.

Voldemort will bring more torture.

They take me to the back of the castle overlooking the sea. There in the land beneath some trees sits items that unsettle my heart. As we draw closer, my horrors are confirmed. There are gravestones, marking the bodies of the dead. But they are short, practically sitting in the ground itself. It was probably done on purpose.

I don't even read whose graves they are, because something tells me I don't want to know. My eyes scan the contents, counting perhaps twenty markers.

"There are many," I say, blinking many times. It's sad- and horrific- to think that these are my friends, my colleagues and teachers buried beneath the dirt.

To my left, Fred shakes his head. "These are just the ones that we find Hermione… the bodies that we have to bury."

I gulp, unable to fight back a tear or two now. These aren't all the dead, I should've known. These are just the people that could be salvaged or that have died in the castle. There are countless bodies resting in that room in Grimmauld Place that I don't even know the identities to, but that will probably be buried or buried in mass graves to get the bodies out of the Death Eater's way. The bile wants to rise in my throat.

This is a time of war. People are completely inhumane.

The one thought lingering in the back of my head is slowly making its way to the surface, no matter how much I want to ignore it. It's the reason we took this haunting walk, the reason we are down here in what would be a peaceful atmosphere if times were different. And the realization is something I can't deny anymore.

"Where is Ron?" I choke out, knowing he is somewhere down here. If the reality were different, if he were alive, we would be elsewhere, not in this makeshift gravesite to honor the dead. I scurry forward, reading the nameplates when neither twin offers me an answer. Why would they? This would be the grave of their younger brother.

I find him, right near the front. No one wrote the dedications of what he was, just his name. He isn't labeled as 'friend' or 'Quidditch Player' or 'brother' or 'son', he's just Ronald B. Weasley, another body beneath the cold earth. I choke back a sob.

"He died protecting Harry," George said quietly, and I don't question the dead tone he uses anymore. His brother's dead, his sister's in critical condition. They don't have a lot to smile upon right now. "When they went out to fight- to ambush- it didn't go as planned. We were there, but, we weren't _there_, not right beside them."

"Ron jumped in front of Harry and took the killing curse in his place," Fred continued, his tone just as lifeless. "Voldemort nearly won in that moment, and would've too if Ron wasn't around. He died a hero's death."

I sit on the earth, listening to them tell me about the last moments of his life, all re-accounted by Harry, the soft tears slipping down. Ron never was much of a fighter, or the brightest bloke out there, but I always knew he had a big heart. And he died protecting someone else, proving just that.

We always told Harry we were in this with him, I just never expected any of us to die. It's surreal to think about your life ending, or to know someone close to you is done. And for right now I don't care how tough and strong I am portrayed every day, because it doesn't matter. I may be a better duelist than Ron, and I might not be as reckless as Ron. But I'll never do what Ron did.

I may not die an honorary death, but he did. And I never got to say anything to him about war. If I recall, we ended our last talk in a fight, one which I will never be able to apologize for. Reaching out, I trace the carved letters of his name in the stone.

That's what Neville referred to when he thought Ginny was losing her mind, her faith. She has to have known then that Ron was gone, I just never asked her. I didn't think she would know. But she did, like everyone else, she knew he was six feet under in peace.

I pull my knees up and bury my face against them. I'm angry at the world, at myself, the Death Eater's, everyone. George and Fred try to comfort me, but I'm not listening. I just wallow in my tears.

It was never supposed to be this way. None of us were ever supposed to die. I wasn't prepared for that reality, not now, not ever. You don't want to say goodbye to those you love.

At one point the twins leave me to my tears, and I'm thankful for the solitude. I say nothing to Ron's grave- Ron's soul- in the silence, and just cry my eyes out, muttering 'I'm sorry' when I have enough breath. I just don't want to believe the truth.

In the end, I cry until I can't anymore, and I've gone numb. I don't check who else is out here, I can't bear to right now. But at some point, a cloak is draped over my stiff, frigid shoulders and arms slide to pick me up.

"No," I whine in a scratchy voice, attempting feebly to squirm out of his grasp, "I can't go."

"You have to go inside Granger," he says, holding me tighter. "You have to sleep." He turns away, walking back along the path I walked hours before.

"No," I say, feeling the tears re-appear from somewhere inside again. "I can't leave him-"

"I know," he replies, hugging me tighter. "But for now you have to. You have to sleep-"

"No," I reply, but my actions are broken again. I don't try to pull away this time, just repeat the same word over and over again, my tears eating at me. _No, no, no._


	40. Chapter 39 H

**Disclaimer**: All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea.

**A/n**: Another fairly sad chapter. The war is coming though, so be prepared. As always, please leave a comment at the bottom! Thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

* * *

I blink my eyes open slowly before bolting up. My surroundings are different from the stone nameplates that clouded my vision earlier, and I rub my eyes to take everything in.

I'm in a room now; furnished sparsely, but it's quaint enough. I recall Draco coming out to get me at some point from the gravesite, and I remember the feel of my head on his shoulder as I cried. Reality comes crashing back into me as I realize that Ron really is gone, and nothing is going to change that.

Blinking repeatedly, I force back more tears. I cried for ages earlier, and I can't waste numerous minutes doing so again. This is a time of war, and death is expected. I was a fool to block out that fact for so long, but now it is something I can't ignore. I can't ignore Ron's passing.

Throwing myself out of the bed, I search for something to distract myself. Walking to the curtains first, I throw them open to reveal a window. Blinding light attacks my face, and I stagger back a few steps. It's morning? But it was midday the last time I recall!

A knock on my door startles me, and I shove the curtains shut again. More time has passed than I first assumed, but for now I need to put that aside. Clearing my throat and hoping to Circe that I look semi-presentable, I walk towards the door. Opening it, I feel my mood shift. Both happy and sad emotions battle to be dominant within me.

"Hello Harry," I say, nodding once. He offers me the same greeting before I invite him into my room, and we enter into an awkward silence almost immediately after the door clicks shut behind him. I walk to the bed and sit down again, unsure what to say. There is suddenly an enormous space of uncertainty lingering between us, a space that would usually be consumed by Ron. A pang of hurt attacks my heart as I remind myself that he can't be there anymore.

For a while, I don't think we will speak at all. But at length, Harry breaks the silence with a sign. "It wasn't supposed to be like this."

"It never is," I whisper in response, sniffling. I can't start crying again. "But… it can't be undone."

"It shouldn't have happened!" He's on his feet, instantly pacing the short length of the room. "He shouldn't have done what he did…" I can hear his voice trembling as he speaks.

Standing, I put myself in front of him and force him to stop walking. "Harry," I say sternly, shaking my head, "he did what any one of us would do. You… you're the most important wizard in Britain; you can't expect people to not take chances around you. Ron and I did- _have_- known you for years. We… we know how important you are in the world. He gave up his life for the bigger picture, and I'm sure it's not something he regrets." It's hard to keep talking like I'm so calm. Inside I'm shaking, but on the outside I hold my composure. Harry is always worried about everyone and blaming himself for every little thing. And although this could be considered his fault in a way, I can't let him think like that. He needs to be focused when it comes to the final battle.

My friend looks away- eyes glossy- and fixes his gaze on something outside the window. "I thought we had it all planned out perfectly. We were going to storm the Manor and take everything down- including Voldemort. But their numbers exceeded anything we ever suspected, and with Snape dead-"

"Snape's dead?" Alarm shoots up by body. Why didn't someone inform me of that either? It seems that everyone is avoiding the topic of death, but it's so hard to do when those who have passed were so important to our cause, and close to my heart.

He nods grimly, continuing to look away. "He was… he died in the attack on Grimmauld Place. Nasty rumors from our spies tell me that he did not pass in a pleasant way. He was a turncoat after all, _and _he stood and fought against the Death Eater's. I never asked for the details."

I cringe, remembering the vivid images of dead, twisted bodies lying in the room there. Could Snape have been among the dead there, like so many others? My stomach does a flip at that idea.

"I wouldn't either," I say quietly, looking out the window as well. I don't know what he sees out there, but perhaps he is simply imagining a simpler life.

Harry gulps, and I know he is going to force us to continue the conversation. "In case you're offended, I didn't mean anything by sending Malfoy down to get you. When the interrogation finished and we had declared him fit to work with us, the twins informed me of where you were. They couldn't bear to go down again, and everyone avoids the… the graves if they can. It's too painful to visit. But Malfoy had no real emotional connections to anyone down there, and upon his return I saw no changes in his demur. He wasn't affected by the scene like so many of us are. I'm not sure if you were upset about him intruding on your privacy, pulling you away, but you needed to come inside, and he was willing to remove you from that awful place."

I blink, taking everything in. I actually wet my lips twice before I can muster up the courage to speak a word. "You trusted Malfoy with me?" I ask in awe. I would never have believed that _Harry_ was the one who suggested the blonde come and get me if he didn't tell me himself.

He nods, finally looking back at me. When I see his head turn, I turn mine as well. "Hermione," he says sternly, looking directly into my eyes, "Please understand this. I don't trust that git one bit, not with my friends. But, there's something about the two of you that is different from how he approaches everyone else. You should've seen him in the interrogation; he was completely hostile and offset. I nearly gave up on your idea of him switching sides all together. But he overheard a few of us talking about where you were, and going to get you before you passed out. I was on my way to go in search of Remus when he stopped me around a corner, declaring he would go and get you. I've never been so stunned in my life. But I sent him to do it, and watched from the window." He shakes his head. "He held you so delicately on the walk back, it was incredible. I expected him to make you walk, but he was actually quite kind about the entire thing. I suppose you don't remember much of that though; you were in hysterics."

"Yes, I was," is all I say in response. Harry gives me a soft smile, before pulling me into a tight hug.

"It's just so good to know you're alive, Hermione," he says, muttering into my curls. "I was worried when an escapee reported that Snape had shoved you through the Floo. I wasn't sure if I would see you again. And I really needed to see a friend's face."

I reach up, hugging him back just as tightly. Those damn tears threaten to spill over again, but I force them back. "I know how you feel Harry. It's good to see someone… someone in one piece."

* * *

It's later when I finally find him. War plans have been discussed throughout the day, yet everywhere I've gone he seems to be absent. I'm trying to keep myself busy as much as possible today to avoid thinking about Ron, but what I really want to do is speak to him. There are too many questions dancing in my head for me to ignore.

During dinner I wander out onto one of the short balcony's the high rooms of the castle offer, searching for somewhere to lose myself. My room is constantly checked by everyone imaginable, as though they expect me to disappear again. I can't say I blame them; I have gone missing a remarkable number of times.

Somehow, I locate the balcony Malfoy has situated himself in. It scares me to death to walk out onto that platform, my fear of heights still very real. But I wanted the fear, I wanted something to keep me shocked into reality. If I have looked for somewhere to cry, I need to be able to have fear in the back of my mind to keep me from doing anything ridiculous and dangerous. Balconies are perfect for this, because I will be too scared of the edges to ever get near enough to hurt myself.

Yet there he is, using his wand to make minuscule flames appear as he pleases. I stand there in the doorway between this extended death trap and the level ground of the building before he notices me, and when he does it's startling. Everything stops and his whole being zones in on me.

"Shouldn't you be off feasting with your friends?"

I square my shoulders a bit at that. "Shouldn't you be eating yourself? There's a decent amount of food down there."

He shrugs. "Alright, fair enough Hermione." He flexes his fingers, beckoning me over to him. "Come sit."

It takes me several tries to force myself to step out onto the balcony, and even then I'm almost passing out. He has to pull me down beside him, that dangerous edge so close. If I were the depressive type- and not in the company of Malfoy- I might consider throwing myself off the edge after all the heinous things I have seen.

"What brings you up here then?"

I glance at him, surprised to find him so chatty. "I was looking for some solitude on the upper floors, but somehow I crossed paths with you. What are you doing up here anyway? I haven't seen you the entire day."

He rolls his eyes. "I didn't see much of a point to make my presence known. I am only here because I could make a valuable spy if it comes down to it, but other than that your side doesn't trust me one bit. I remained in the shadows where I could, and once I got the big picture of what is being planned I retired to this balcony, where I don't feel like such an outsider."

Glancing down, I suppress a sigh. Expecting Malfoy to be taken in with open arms would be foolish, but dealing with his inability to fit in with this bunch is another thing added to my long list of problems that I simply do not need. He can't help what he was born into, but people don't see it that way.

"I'm sorry that no one accepts you," I try, attempting to feel pity for him, but I can't. There are worse fates out there than not fitting in with a group where you don't like the majority of its members.

He chuckled. "Don't be Granger, there are worse things out there." Well, at least he sees my point. But he clears his throat, and I can tell he is about to bring something up. "So… how are you doing?"

My heart breaks a bit there. He's going to bring up the one topic I don't want to discuss, and oddly enough I feel like he's the one person I might be able to talk to about all of this. He didn't have much of a connection to Ron, and might actually be able to provide comfort- or attempt to- versus feeding me the same pain I'm feeling. Harry and the others can't comfort me, because they are all wounded by the same pains and issues that I have.

My lips quiver a bit when I answer. I've known about Ron's death less than a day, I have a right to still be emotionally unstable. "Not well."

"Well, at least you're telling the truth. If you told me you were fine, I would've called your bluff."

I bite down a sob again. He's very raw with the way he talks, very blunt. He doesn't dance around my feelings, not like Harry and I attempted to when we discussed Ron. But when I speak, it comes out as a cry.

"I miss him."

Surprisingly, he wraps an arm around me, pulling me in. Throughout the time we have spent together, we've never really been physically or emotionally close. For him to act like this is completely unexpected, but I certainly won't push him off. I long for the comfort from someone, and like I said Draco is someone I can hopefully talk to.

"I know," he says quietly.

"He didn't have to go."

"He chose to."

The tears just don't stop. For the first time, I find myself spilling my emotions out to the blonde, who isn't nearly as cold as I expected him to be. He holds me close and lets me- a Mudblood- soil his clothes in tears. How times have changed.

I tell him about how I miss Ron, about the room full of corpses, and that void that's beginning to take over my heart. A void where the dead have left me empty.

And throughout all my crying, he holds me close, letting me get it all out.


	41. Chapter 40 D

**Disclaimer**: All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea.

**A/n**: Another one! Enjoy :) Thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

* * *

It's almost dark when we make our descent from the balcony. Granger nearly had a heart attack when we stood up and she saw how high we were, but a gentle shove propelled her to run back into the castle. It's a wonder that she sat out there that long and didn't worry about where we were. The shoulder of my shirt is soaked from her tears, though I don't complain. If she hadn't let those feelings out she would've surely exploded under the pressure war brings. That room alone is enough to make someone's skin crawl, and I'm surprised she kept quiet about that for this long.

As we walk, I can't help but note she's not like herself. She's rubbing her arms, and holds her head down. Obviously she is affected, but I expected her to bounce back after we spoke. She should be better by now, but I can tell things are still swimming in her mind.

Before we can round a corner, I stop her. She looks up at me with large, questioning eyes. "What still bothers you?" I ask quietly, hoping she doesn't start crying about the same thing again. It's a difficult topic, but I only know how to comfort someone to a certain extent. I don't know if I can handle more tears without messing something up.

She shrugs, moving to walk on. "Nothing," she replies, but I don't believe her. I catch her arm again, and she doesn't resist.

"I recall that at a point in time you were at least a decent liar Hermione. What makes you so horrible now?"

The girl looks slightly insulted, but I don't pay her any mind. It's the honest truth, and when she speaks again I know that it was a good thing that I pushed. She twists her head forward so we aren't locking eyes anymore, and shakes her head when she speaks. "I just don't believe he is gone."

With a sigh, I nod. Of course it would be about Weasley, however did I miss that? "I know," I reply, wrapping an arm around her to keep her moving. "It's not that easy to move on."

She nods in return, but doesn't speak again. We return to the rest of the Order silently, and the whole time my mind can't stop working. If she suffers like this through the loss of a friend, I wonder how I will be affected if I find Blaise or Pansy in the fields of the dead when the final battle breaks out.

It's a curiosity I don't want to focus much on.

* * *

"They're going to come to us." I've been listening to Potter drawl on for the past twenty minutes now in this meeting- one which I am surprised I am invited to partake in- and it has taken him that long to get to his point. He might be a hero in everyone's eyes, but gazing at him now I see the mask of a scared boy. He is usually quite excellent at keeping scared emotions out, but obviously something is affecting him now. Maybe it is the sheer idea of this all coming to an end, one way or the other, very soon.

So far, it seems that everyone here has been planning an upfront attack on the Death Eater's headquarters- my Manor. No one seems to have wanted to focus on the idea of a real attack on their new fort, but it happened at the last place and it could happen here. As Potter finally says this fear, people begin whispering. You can feel the unease rising in the air.

_They are going to come to us._

"We have to be prepared," Potter continues. "Our scouts in the woods have reported sightings of the Death Eater's more and more frequently. Those are our trained scouts- investigators- and yesterday one of them from the old Ministry was murdered. Something's coming our way, and I doubt Voldemort would send his workers here without a plan. We have yet to come to him, so he wants to come to us."

Beside me, I exchange a glance with Hermione- the only person in the room who will look my way. This sounds like it will be quite unpleasant.

Potter drones on for the next several minutes about which side Voldemort is likely to attack first, and who should begin taking up residence there in case of an attack. It's odd to think that these unfinished war plans will be repeated to the upperclassmen at Hogwarts in a matter of minutes, offering them the opportunity to fight. Those who were of age apparently remained here when the Order began arriving, and those who were too young to fight were smuggled through the underground tunnel into the forest. I don't ask if those children all got home safely, or if some died due to Death Eater interference.

"But if we remain here for too long we will find ourselves trapped. I don't think Voldemort would come here, not with our last attack." His voice gets shaky here, and my ears perk up. What exactly happened in the last attack?

"He's weakened, but he's not going to back down. He knows there's still a chance he could win, and I'm willing to bet this is more of an ambush then our final attack." He pauses here, glancing at that half-wolf man at his side. Bloody hell, what was his name? He taught us in third year.

The man stands, taking up his apparent place at Potter's direct side. My mind wanders, wondering if only weeks before if that was Weasley standing there. But then, would Weasley have been that good of a planner of war? Maybe a fighter, but a planner?

"If our assumption is correct- and through our last remaining spy, we assume so- then the Dark Lord will not come here with the Death Eater's. He's going to let his men fight the bloody battle, and have some few bring Harry back to them. If we all remain here to stand our ground, then we may fall right into his trap."

"That is why we believe a selective group of people should journey to Malfoy Manor." Here he stops, being the first man around the table to bother looking my way, "If Voldemort thinks he can attack us so easily, he has another thing coming. He thinks he is saving his strength to finish Harry alone, but that is not so. Many of us have discussed this, and it has been decided already who will come with us to the Manor, if they will go. That will be where the reality of a final attack comes in, fought on two different battlefields. Delaying this inevitable meeting between Harry and Voldemort has been put off for too long, and he ran the last time they encountered when he became weakened. He can't run on his own front, and I assume that his men don't think so highly of him now that he has run away in a moment of weakness. That weakness cannot have passed yet, and we must attack while his attention is focused on Hogwarts, believing all is well."

The table's occupants break out into a loud talk, all agreeing or opposing the new proposition. The front four do not look startled by this, and it doesn't startle me. Outside of wolf-man and Potter, I could see McGonagall and the eldest Weasley being important. I suspect that at another point in time many more would have known of this plan beforehand- including Hermione, but she chose to speak with me instead, and probably missed the whole discussion beforehand.

I myself don't say a word. I can't decide if this sudden plan is an excellent idea or a foolish one. Whoever the spy is- and I am quite interested to find out who- could flip either way. He could decide to really help the Order, but considering that he is originally a Voldemort follower that doesn't mean much. It could be another layer of the bastards plan to bring Potter down. One can never tell what that twisted creature would try next, and I lock that idea in my mind. I won't bring it up now and cause more problems, but I will keep it in mind to bring up later.

It's Hermione that actually says something logical among the assorted opinions flying around. "Who do you think is going to the Manor?" Silence slips back into the room again, and I'm thankful. This is a question I am also curious to hear.

Potter's eyes dance over the room once. "Fred and George, Remus, Luna, myself…" His voice trails off, as though considering his next answer, "Hermione… and Malfoy."

I can't conceal a smirk that spreads across my lips as another uproar breaks out. This one I can tolerate, because I can see in Potter's eyes that saying my name truly bothers him. Am I so bad, or am I just a concern? I don't know, but I'll take either if it means I don't have to kiss Potter's arse to get the Order off my back enough to come along to the Manor. I know if my name had not been said it would've been hell to convince anyone to let me come along.

I have unfinished business back there.

* * *

It's night before I have a moment to go looking. I know exactly who I'm looking for, and exactly what I am inquiring about. However I- like everyone else in this place- know that he has gone into hiding for a bit, and the real task before me is to locate him.

When I do, I pause at a distance and cross my arms. He's standing in front of a mirror, peering out onto the school property. As he explained to me when I was sent to grab Hermione, those Death Eater's lurk outside the barrier at all times. But why watch them if they have yet to do anything?

"Potter."

"Malfoy. We greet each other this way often."

I shrug. "I can throw in a few things about your parents and Dumbledore to insult you if that's what you want."

The ghost of a smile dances over his lips, and I cringe. Oh Merlin, I'm making Potter smile. Certainly something is wrong with me.

"Is there something you wanted?" he continues.

I roll my eyes, thinking how silly that question is. Why would I seek him out if I didn't need something? It's not like we are friends. "Yes. I was wondering about some things."

He glances my way. "Then ask me about them."

"What happened the last time you encountered Voldemort?" I ask, wasting no time. If he wants to be direct about things that is something I can oblige by. He cringes after I finish, but I pretend to not notice.

"Ron died," he says, his voice void of emotion. I resist rolling my eyes at this.

"I already knew that. And I know that it's affecting you- since I know it bothers Hermione- but how is that exactly relevant? Don't get me wrong Potter, I get that it saddens those who knew him, but you make it sound like it weakened Voldemort. Have you forgotten that only you can do that?"

Potter appears puzzled by my statement, and turns my way. "Malfoy, you do know why I survived Voldemort the first time, don't you?"

"Yes. Something to do with that mother of yours."

He arches an eyebrow. "My mother gave her life for mine. It protected me, made it impossible for him to kill me. Ron did the same thing, and it created the same sort of barrier that once existed. The difference is, my mother's protection only helped me until my sixteenth birthday, and then wore off. I am easier for Voldemort to get to now. Ron's save however, will not have the exact same affects. He jumped in front of me without any thought, and did not have the same sort of love for me that a mother has for a child, but a friend has for a friend. It doesn't have the same power."

I frown. "I don't understand."

He huffs. "Honestly, I don't really either. Remus gave me his definition of things, but I didn't ask much after it. I don't like to ask about it." I nod, dropping the topic for right now.

"Who's your spy?"

His head snaps up, eyebrows shooting high. "You don't know?"

I frown again, taking a step towards him. "No…"

"I thought he would've at least have told you," Potter says with a shake of his head.

"Who? I have no bloody idea who you're talking about Potter. The only spy I ever knew was Snape, and if you have forgotten, he's dead."

"I haven't."

"So who is it?"

But he just shakes his head, turning away. "I'm sure you'll find out, once we get to the Manor."

"That's not an answer!"

Potter doesn't listen though. He turns and bolts away, obviously not in the mood to answer my questions. I take off to follow him, but around the first corner he is gone. I curse, forgetting that he always seemed to know how to get around the castle better than anyone.

Unfortunately, he left me with more questions than answers.


	42. Chapter 41 H

**Disclaimer**: All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea.

**A/n**: Another chapter! Enjoy :) Thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

* * *

I'm practicing spells in my room later when a knock on my door interrupts my work. I can't stand to not move- do something- else I find that I get depressed because my mind wanders. I can't let pain and sorrow in right now, not when I need to be so focused as to save my own life in this Manor attack.

Hopefully there will be few there.

Walking to my door, I throw it open. Malfoy stands on the other side, looking extremely annoyed. I open my mouth to ask what's wrong, but he speaks before I ever get a chance. "Do you know who the spy is?"

I blink, thinking over what he could mean. At the meeting Harry mentioned a spy, but I have been out of commission so long that I can't begin to fathom who that could be. Shaking my head, I tell him no.

He glances away. "I was afraid you would say that."

"Why is it such a big deal for you to know?" I ask, studying him. When he glances at me but gives no response, I beckon him into my room. He walks in without a word, and at least I know he's attempting to not be too difficult.

"It's someone I worked beside at the Manor, but I have no idea who and that frustrates me." I have barely closed the door before he is speaking, and turning around I note that he is pacing the length of my room as he has done so many times before. "You told me once that the Death Eater's there were working to make my father suffer, to murder myself and my mother. So who among those people secretly had a heart? Who didn't want to see more suffering? I just can't think of anyone."

"You're stressing yourself out over a small detail," I say, crossing my arms. "I'm sure we will meet this spy there, or at least see or learn who they are. But it's late, and we leave the day after tomorrow."

"I know."

I move to sit on my bed, letting him continue to pace. When did I start getting so comfortable around Draco exactly? Probably when I started using his real name- or maybe when he chose to have a heart and save my life- but the way we act around each other now is like how I would act around Ron or Harry. It's strange to think that we were enemies a few months back.

"Are you ready to deal with the final attack?" he asks at length, drawing my attention. When silence took over, I busied myself with remembering the enchantments of so many spells, and nearly forgot he was there. Looking up, I press my lips together and shake my head; no.

"I want it to be over," I say slowly, watching his clear grey eyes watch me. "I'm ready to live in a world where I can wander the streets without worrying about severe things happening to me just because of my heritage, but I do worry about the fight itself. If Harry… if Harry dies, that world will never exist."

The blonde nods in agreement. "I have the same fears. You suffered at the hands of the Death Eater's, so you know how cruel they can be to a human- even if they don't consider people like you to be humans. If Voldemort succeeds, the world will be painted in red and the hopes of a peaceful life will diminish into nothing. If he can gain such power, even those who serve him will know what it feels like to experience real torture. There will be one monarch, and a million slaves." He shakes his head. "I'm not even sure if the rest of the world would come to Britain's aid if Harry dies. You know how hostile they were in France."

"Indeed." I cross my legs, watching him. "I just hope that those of us who go with Harry will be able to see things through, and ensure that he succeeds."

He laughs, but it's a crude, broken laugh. "We're going as pawns Hermione, do you realize that? He chose the people closest to him- save me- because he wants his dearest friends to be by his side to support him in those horrifying moments, but he's also basically sacrificing everyone's lives by doing so. In the end, we are expected to die for him so he can kill the Dark Lord."

I nod, but glance down. He is so good at putting things bluntly, something I cannot succeed in. He has a picture in his mind of what is expected of us, and all the gore that comes with war. I can't stomach it, and I don't want to; it's all going to come down to two people, no matter how many others died in the process to get up to their meeting. It's sad to think that Harry is the only one who may matter at all out of the Order, and Voldemort the only important one from the dark side.

My bed sinks a bit, and I glance up to look into Malfoy's eyes. He's watching me again, that same penetrating gaze searching the depths of my soul for something I don't understand. "Hermione?"

"Hm?"

"Promise me something."

I shift, nodding my head in agreement to do so. He then reaches out and grabs both of my hands, something I did not expect to happen at all. "What's this about?" I ask slowly.

He purses his lips- twice- before he answers my question. "I don't know how many of the Death Eater's will remain behind at the Manor, but I can almost remain certain that my father will be among them. Voldemort may hate him, but he is an easy pawn and will do anything to please his Lord. If you see him, do _not _attempt to duel him."

I frown, attempting to pull my hands back but he only grips them tighter. "Why not? If I see him, I can't just stand there and let him kill me."

"I'll stay by your side," he argues, searching my eyes again. I don't understand the sudden paranoia taking over him, but he seems on the verge of hysteria suddenly. "Please Hermione, tell me you won't duel him."

"But why? I won't just stand there and be killed either."

He's squeezing the feeling out of my fingers at this point, but I make no move to push him off. Something is really bothering him, and it's best to just try and get to the bottom of things first. "Hermione, my father worked with Bella to blind you. He went down while you were still attempting to heal and beat you bloody. He has always hated you, and knowing that you are a weak link in Potter's exterior will only make him and the other Death Eater's search harder for you once they arrive- if they know you're there. I think you should be remaining here where capture will be useless by the time you are brought back to the Manor, but that's not my choice. All I'm saying is that he will do whatever it takes to get Potter to surrender, and out of everyone going you will have the greatest influence on his heart if they start hurting you."

I pull my hands free, unable to take the pressure he is putting on them any longer. "Look Draco, I understand everything you are saying and your concern for me. I even kind of understand your point about your father doing _anything_, because I'm sure he is sick enough to go to ridiculous extremes to hurt Harry. But I can't guarantee to you that we will be together throughout that entire journey, because there are too many variables that could separate everyone from each other. I'll be careful- as I'm sure you will be- but you have to calm down and not worry about me so much. If anyone there saw you taking extra care of my safety they could use me against you just as much as they could against Harry. It's dangerous either way."

He bites his lip. "I suppose so."

"I do appreciate your concern though," I say, softening my tone. "You seem torn right now, and I am too. I don't think anyone should have to fight, because no matter what I want to think or believe… no matter how much I ignore it, people will die. It's inevitable, and we are just going to have to worry about keeping ourselves alive at the Manor. Maybe we can try to stick together if the group begins breaking apart, but we have to worry about Harry most of all."

I can tell my words aren't anything he wants to hear, and he stands abruptly, ignoring me now. "I understand Hermione; we need the war to come to a close. I won't let anything jeopardize Saint Potter from getting to Voldemort, I assure you." He turns to go.

Now I know my words are cutting him, but I just don't understand why. Without thinking, I jump up and hurry after him to the door, stopping him before he can open it again. As he turns around, I throw myself on him, causing him to fall back into the door due to the force of my hug. If he was angry before, now he's stunned.

I can't focus on his emotions though, nor how he grips me back just as tightly as I grip him. This is different from when he would listen to my pains, because we never really held each other. He held or comforted me, but I never embraced him in return. This is new.

"We'll get through this," I whisper, "Both of us. Even if we can't follow each other throughout the Manor, we're going to be okay."

He might think I'm speaking nonsense now- and I probably am- but he doesn't comment on it. Instead he hugs me back tighter then I am gripping him, and we don't speak again.

* * *

Dawn. Usually it's a peaceful time, but this morning I wake to the sounds of screams. Someone is banging on my door, and immediately I'm bolting up in bed. Something is going on, and I'm quick to throw on some shoes and grab my wand before barging out into the hall. One of the Order members I don't know well grabs my shoulder.

"You have to go!"

I blink, trying to process things. Everyone is running around in a fit, but I don't understand what is happening. "Please, tell me what's wrong."

He just shakes his head, giving me a shove down the hall. "The Death Eater's just broke our barrier; Bellatrix used some sort of dark curse to destroy the shield. They're going to storm the castle, and we have to be prepared. Go to the dungeons where the others are gathering and get to the forest! You're going to have to run out through the tunnels."

The fighter in me tells me to stand my ground and help, but I know I can't. If I waste time, that means the others cannot leave. Turning, I bolt down the stairs, thankful that I grabbed my wand and shoes before going to see what was wrong.

Everyone is gathered outside the tunnel by the time I arrive, and Malfoy won't look my way. It's obvious there's a quiet panic setting in as we prepare to go on our way- a day early- and finish this war one way or another. No one speaks as we step into the tunnel, and Remus seals the entrance behind us, the entire company lighting their wands. In silence, we begin jogging the long distance towards the opposite end of the chamber, the one that enters into the forest.

I find myself running beside Malfoy, and for some unknown reason that brings me a bit of comfort. We have been running together for ages now, and I feel comfortable beside him. Without thinking about it, I grab his hand. This is obviously something he didn't expect, and he glances at me but says nothing. I suppose that means that he likes the connection just as much as I, for it offers an additional bit of comfort in this horrid time. We should've prepared earlier.

At some point, Lupin falls into step beside Draco. We have to slow down by this point, for we will need plenty of energy once we get out of the tunnel. But what I don't expect is for the man to notice our hands, and smile. One would think that he would find that odd.

"It's a good thing we have you along Draco my boy," he says instead, drawing attention from the entire company, "Turns out we're going to need you."

"Why do you say that?" he asks, watching our old Professor carefully, like everyone else now.

But Remus just clasps Draco on the shoulder, winking at him as we walk. "Well, without you to help us it could be quite a difficult thing to find the weak spots to get into the Manor, don't you think?"

On Draco's other side, I grin. Someone else is finally noticing his worth.


	43. Chapter 42 D

**Disclaimer**: All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea.

**A/n**: Another chapter! Enjoy :) To everyone that has kept reading for so long, I wanted to say thanks! I'm still undecided how the ending will be yet, but it's coming up so keep reading! About 8-10 chapters to go! Thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

* * *

The moment we break out of the tunnel into the forest, I suddenly become a god among men. Everyone within this small company assumes that because it is my home we are going to ambush- and because I'm a former Death Eater- that I know everything.

They're wrong. From the moment I refused to murder Dumbledore I have been avoided by Voldemort, all because he doesn't think that I can handle any large tasks. It didn't really bother me, but perhaps now it would've helped had I learned some of the back paths they take out of the Manor. I know how far the barrier reaches at least, and suggest we go a half a mile further when we apparate to hopefully avoid any guards. Then they all hold onto me and hope for the best, since I'm the only one that really knows where we are going.

It's a miracle no one is splinched, though we do have to re-cooperate upon arriving since several people are queasy now. And then we set off.

Thankfully, Hermione remains near me. Out of everyone, I want her by my side. It eases my worries about returning, and her own safety.

For about two hundred feet we encounter no one, but everyone remains guarded. Then, a Death Eater springs from the bushes, knocking one of those tall red-haired twins to the ground. I have no idea what he intends to cast as a spell, but werewolf-man has his wand in his hand a moment later. This is obviously a trainee, and a bad one at that.

We're quick to swipe his memory and knock him out before moving on. I figure this is either Brad or William Benson, two very new- and young- recruits to Voldemort's ranks. I doubt they are even supposed to be out here. Hopefully the other brother will mind his own business, wherever he may be.

We carry on, and at the barrier we finally run into some real problems- Death Eater's, and none of them look like trainees. Crouching low in the bushes, I try to distinguish who is who, but cannot. They all have the same type of black hair however, and I wonder if this is perhaps an entire family. There are so many families within his ranks.

I glance across at Potter, who nods once to me. The endless walk to get out of the tunnels gave us plenty of time to figure out strategies of attack, and I can see him nodding to both myself and Hermione, before holding up three fingers, indicating that we're going to use a third pattern and the two of us are going to go to the left. Turning, I follow her to the side, careful of where I step.

There are only four within view, and it appears they are pacing the perimeter. Vaguely, I wonder if I will be able to slip them through at all, or if I am no longer registered as a Death Eater and the barrier will give me away.

What am I saying? This is my home; my family has lived here for centuries. The natural barrier around the Manor will always remember me, even if the wards Voldemort placed do not, and since his influence has not been in the grounds for centuries, my heritage should allow me to slip past the wards unnoticed, and bring whoever I want with me.

At least, that's the plan. We're all hoping that it works out.

Immediately, Potter takes down the Death Eater farthest to the right. Granger and I spring out then, taking down the one nearest to us. From the corner of my eye, I spot Remus taking down a third with Looney, and those twins attack the fourth. Everything ends quickly.

"It's not going to be that easy from here," Remus says, looking out before us as the world stills again. It appears that nothing is there at all, but we all know the truth. The barrier is right before us, and now comes the moment of truth; can I slip through?

All eyes have turned to me, and it's slightly frightening. If I can't slip them through unnoticed this sneak attack will all be a waste. Without exchanging a word with anyone, I walk to the barrier and step through.

Nothing happens, and I smirk. I know from my time with Voldemort that an intruder would feel tingling sensations if they set off the alarms. I feel none though, and that means that I got through unnoticed. So far so good.

Before I can turn back, hands from the dark reach out and grab me. The vegetation around this side of the Manor is thick, and it's easy for my attacker to grasp my arms and pull me behind the trees. I can hear Hermione calling out for me, but I can't see her.

I throw off the man seconds later- I'm sure it's a man. Spinning, I light my wand. I at least want to see who attacked me, but the person I turn to is not who I expected.

"Blaise?"

From behind the barrier, I can hear the Order calling out, trying to decide if it's worth helping me and sacrificing their secrecy or to leave me and find another way in that won't blow their cover. I'm hardly listening though, because all I can do is stare at the friend I thought I would never see again.

"Draco," he replies, shaking his head at me, "You shouldn't have come back. You're setting yourself up to die."

I attempt to block out the noise, focusing on my friend for now. "What are you talking about Blaise? Do you think I don't realize that? It's not like I expected to come back here and have everyone welcome me. I'm sure I'm considered the enemy now."

He pursues his lips. "It's dangerous to be here. Why ever would you return once you got away from this place? I thought you would stay with Granger, but she seems to have gotten her vision back pretty quickly."

"Yes," I reply, studying him. He doesn't seem like he's going to attack. "I thought I owed it to her after everything. But Blaise, I don't mean to spoil the moment, but shouldn't you be attacking me? I am the enemy now."

He chuckles, and the action throws me off. "Why would I do that, Draco? You're still my best mate, even if you did come back and steal your mother away, and assisted Granger."

I'm about to ask why, when we hear the crunch of leaves nearby. My father destroyed the wildlife and cursed the plants in this portion of the forest years ago to keep wildlife away, so I know it's not a deer or anything. Exchanging a look with Blaise, I get a nervous feeling in my stomach. Even our short conversation has lasted too long.

"You can trust me Draco," he says quietly, looking into my eyes. "You have to. What is Potter doing here?"

"We've come to kill Voldemort," I reply, only thinking afterwards that maybe I should be more careful with what I say. Blaise is still on Voldemort's side after all.

He only nods, his eyes growing distant. "They won't pass the barrier; it will recognize them. Your blood is all that got you through. Why didn't you take the chamber?"

"Because I was afraid it would be flooded with Death Eaters."

"It's not," he replies, and we back up a bit at another footfall. "They still don't know it exists, like we always hoped. I'll go distract whoever is coming, you just get out of here and get the Order there before anyone else sees." He shakes his head. "You're taking a lot of chances, coming back here. Anyone that notices you is going to be more than happy to kill you."

I force myself to not gulp nervously, and nod instead. That thought has been sitting in the back of my mind for ages now, and it doesn't make me feel any better to acknowledge it with Blaise. We exchange a few more scarce words, before he turns to distract and I turn my wand light out, rushing back across the barrier.

"What was that?" twin one asks, glancing at his brother. Merlin help me if I ever remember their real names.

"I found someone," I say, glancing at Hermione, "an old friend. He told me you can't pass the barrier, my blood gets me through but it doesn't reinstate me into being a Death Eater, so I can't get you to pass. There's another way in, one that should slip past the barrier entirely.

"Where is that?" Lovegood asks, cocking her head to the side.

But I don't give her an answer, just begin trudging off. "This way; we have to go right now! Someone was coming through the forest, and that person nearly found us."

* * *

It's probably quite foolish to fully trust Blaise now that we are on opposite sides, but I can't help myself. He has never been that dedicated to Voldemort, and in this dangerous situation I needed to trust that he wouldn't betray us. Thankfully, he still seems to put friendship before the Dark Lord, and we get into the Manor without a glitch. The Order is weary of this collaboration- or at least, some of them are.

The chamber is empty, which leads me to believe the lowest levels of the Manor remain either untouched or undiscovered. It's as we walk through this lone passage that I notice how people are reacting to Blaise. Those twins and Lovegood seem unsure about his presence, yet Potter and the werewolf seem at ease with him- but why? They have no reason to trust him. And of course, Granger is comfortable in his company. She may have not been entirely sure about him before, but now she seems to trust him.

It's such an odd company.

At the end of the corridor Blaise turns back to look at us, as I expected. His eyes roam over every face, as though trying to decide what to do next. "You might think that this place is empty, but it's not. Voldemort was weakened by the last attack, by Weasley's death"- here nearly everyone flinches-"so he has kept behind a decent handful of his followers. The numbers aren't huge, and everyone isn't a skilled fighter. There might be a chance for you to win."

"Where are they stationed?" Lupin asks, drawing my attention. He really does have a lot of faith in Blaise.

"The highest ranking- or least favorable- are with him in the dining room, where the majority of the meetings are held. Most just wander around, discussing what will happen when Potter dies and he takes over. Some, are not as excited as others."

"Everyone around Voldemort is skilled then," twin two says, shaking his head. I hear Hermione mutter something about 'Fred', and can only assume that's his name. I really should learn to remember which is which before we start fighting- and probably dying.

Blaise nods. "Indeed." His eyes fall on me, and I arch an eyebrow in his direction. "Whoever is going to deal with him personally should have either myself or Draco lead the way, because we know the direct paths to get there. You will send less time fumbling through the corridors."

"I expected as much," Potter replies, startling me. Are they really getting along that well? "But I believe it would be better to follow you, because if you discretely lead us there, but stage it like you're actually fighting against us, no one will pay it that much mind. If Malfoy goes, everyone will be trying to kill him first, because he's a turncoat." I nod my consent, secretly cursing that he actually came to that conclusion so quickly. But I must admit it's logical.

"Who's going with Harry?" Hermione asks, speaking up. I cringe at her question, glancing her way. I told her to not face my father, but I always knew she would want to be at her friend's side during those deciding moments of the war. The question remains though if he can bear to bring her along after the fate Weasley suffered.

Looking into his face, I can see that he is thinking all the same things I am. His eyes flicker up and meet mine for a moment, and there's a kind of pain there that I have never seen before within him. "You go with Malfoy Hermione," he says, catching everyone off guard. I keep assuming that I am the last option to go with her, yet he keeps throwing us together. "Remus will come with me- we decided this back at the school. Fred, George, and Luna, you three stick together and take down whoever you can."

There it is, the plan. I can feel everyone in the space tense up, knowing that there is nothing left to do but go out and start fighting. It's not like in the books, when there's plenty of battle cries and people pumped with adrenaline. Being a part of a battle is very different, and it opens my eyes to the reality of war.

It's fucking terrifying.

"I'll take you there," Blaise agrees, breaking the silence. "I'll fire some poor shots, so ignore me the best you can."

Potter nods, and slowly the rest of the group joins in. Beside me I can feel Granger growing more and more tense, and unconsciously I grasp her hand. It seems to calm her though, and I'm glad I decided to give her the brief moment of calm before the storm.

Blaise pushes the door at the end open, only glancing back once. "Good luck to you all. I hope _we_ win."


	44. Chapter 43 H

**Disclaimer**: All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea.

**A/n**: Yay here's another! My boyfriend thinks I live on this website now that I spend half my time at his house on the computer. Good thing he loves me! So this chapter I think you will like. It's got romance, but then it changes back into the war again. Leave a review and enjoy! Thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

* * *

We scatter. I drop Draco's hand as we leave Harry and the others, pausing in our retreat to glance back. Luna and the twins are rushing away in the opposite direction, and Harry and Remus are taking another. Blaise made himself scarce before we exited the room, hoping to not draw attention. I have to hope so as well.

A hand touches my arm, and I spin back to notice Draco urging me on. We can't stay so out in the open, and after attempting to shake all my emotions away I crouch beside him and begin to walk low to the ground, the half wall ahead of us allowing voices to drift in from the nearby room. I have many reasons to be happy to be with him, but a big advantage is that he knows the foundation of this place better than pretty much anyone here, save perhaps his father. That could give us an advantage when attacking.

Where there is a break in the wall, he pauses. The voices are some that I don't recognize, but then I don't know many of the Death Eater's these days. The few in the room- I've heard three distinct voices so far- are talking about random nothings, and I don't concern myself with it. Watching the blonde, I notice that he is beckoning towards something just across the narrow hall, and my eyes follow the direction of his fingers. I don't see anything.

Then it happens. I note that he is chanting something, and a crack appears in the wall. It's nearly soundless, but the voices in the room slow for a moment. We hold our breath, hoping to go unnoticed. When conversation resumes as it was, he beckons me to crawl across the aisle with him to this crack, and from there appears a larger space that opens into a room. We scurry inside, and the crack closes.

"Lumos," he mutters, lighting the space. It's a small hidden room, collections of what look like discarded tables and boxes are piled to one side. It's not as surprising as one would think to find a room like this here; it is an ancient Manor after all.

"Where are we?" I whisper, and a small smile graces his features.

"This is one of the old chambers in the Manor, used in the sixteenth century to house slaves before house elves really became popular. I can't even tell you how long those tables have been here."

I glance around once more, taking the space in. "Well, what are we doing in here? We should be fighting!"

"Watch," he says holding up a finger. I relent and lean back, watching. He places his wand on the wall facing towards the hallway we just departed, and part of it slides open. For a moment I'm appalled, thinking the Death Eater's across the way can see us, but when he taps on the space, I realize there's a screen. We're in a little hiding place where no one can see us."

"Now we can attack them, but any oncoming and arriving Death Eater's won't know where to attack," he commends, bringing a chair over to the space. "I'll maneuver things to make it easy to cast spells through the space."

"This is like cheating in a game," I mutter, and he arches an eyebrow at me. "Muggles have a thing called tanks that they use when at war; it's a structure that basically fires projectiles- usually ammo, which is what causes all those nuclear issues we studied in Muggle Studies- that will kill humans in a moment. We are sitting in the likeliness of that killing machine now; we are practically indestructible while they remain endangered."

"Is that a bad thing?" I don't answer him, and he goes on to explain that anything other than the killing curse should not be able to pass the barrier. Since one cannot fight off the killing curse, it makes sense why wards won't protect you from it.

The two Death Eater's we gaze upon are men, two of which I don't know. Their masks are gone for now, sitting against something I can't see. Without warning, Draco raises his wand to disturb the semi calm scene.

"_Avada Kedavra_," he says calming, watching the beam of light shoot from his wand. My heart stops as the spell attacks one of the unknowing men, killing him instantly. The man's partner- who stood with his back to us before- spins around widely looking for the attacker. He doesn't even know we are right there.

I snatch Draco's wand away, glaring at him. "What are you doing?!"

"I believe I am taking down as many of the bastards as I can, as I was instructed to do."

"Not with the killing curse! It's unforgiveable!"

He leans toward me. "This is war. Everything done is unforgiveable, yet people continue to be monsters anyways." Outside, the poor man fires hexes, hoping to attack someone. "If I didn't kill him Hermione he would certainly not hesitate to kill one of us."

"That's not the point."

The blonde jabs me with a finger, ripping his wand back when I startle away from his protruding hand. "Don't let your morals kick in now darling. They mean nothing once you hit the battlefield. And although we might have an advantage, it does not excuse the fact that we are fighting for our lives! Don't complain, because we both have to do what is necessary. Just… just do what you have to Hermione. No one believes there is a right or wrong on their side, so we can't either." He looks away. "Look, there's another."

We sit silently for a while as I attempt to take things in. Draco has only killed one other person- and it's traumatizing to phrase things as such- which draws my attention. Shouldn't an alarm have been raised or something? Where exactly are the others?

Possibly the most alarming thing is how little emotion he betrays as he ends a humans life. How can he not feel some sort of guilt to that?

I do believe though that the best thing about this ridiculous place, is listening. After the two fall, I convince Draco that we can wait to see what will happen when more appear before killing. We do need to be learning as well from this ideal location; if they decide to call others back from the Hogwarts attack then that just means more to handle, and though it would be difficult I would not put it past the Dark man to pull out every resource he can muster to cover his own arse and save himself from defeat when weak.

So far though, we hear nothing. Two more men have appeared, sticking themselves out behind the half wall to hide. Since our presence isn't known, they believe they will have an advantage in attacking oncoming sources. But our wands are ready, aimed to strike down whoever attempts to pass by next.

When the next figure comes into play, my heart sinks. There stand Lucius, his dark demur present as usual as he drags the men up from their hiding place. I glance at Draco, expecting him to take the easy kill, but he only sits there, watching with haunted eyes.

"What are you doing?" I hiss as the figure of his father begins to move away. "Out of all the people, I thought-"

He's shoving back his chair before I finish, storming past me back to the door. I whip around and try to follow, but he catches my shoulders. "Remember what I said about dealing with my father Hermione?" he asks quietly. "I told you to please not interfere."

"Well, you could be handling this through the fucking barrier!" I hiss, outraged. Just what does he think he is doing? "You're endangering your life by going out there!"

Draco looks down, pulling away from me. "Hermione, he made your life hell, and he's been destroying mine for years longer than you've even known of his existence. If I am going to kill him, he's going to know that it was me; no barrier will stand between us."

Now I know he's gone mad. Gripping his arm, I hold him back. "We're hiding behind here to survive and destroy as much of the enemy as we can, aren't we? That's why you gave us this sort of armor, so neither of us would die? If you go out there just to get back at your father you throw the armor away and your just as naked as everyone else fighting!"

To this he smiles softly, turning to look at me again. One hand snakes up to rest on my cheek and my eyes narrow as I wonder what he's getting at. "You're very smart sometimes Hermione, too smart. Of course I hid us back here to avoid dying; why else would I sit idly by during the most important minutes of this war?" His grip tightens slightly. "But this is my father, and I have more and more things every day to… _thank_ him for, and I'll be damned if I let him escape." He leans closer. "Promise me that you'll stay here; promise me that you'll be safe."

I purse my lips, thinking his words over. Even before he had finished speaking though, I knew what my answer was going to be. "I can't promise those things you know, just like you can't."

The blonde nods. "I feared that," he said quietly, moving his other hand to my waist. I'm almost positive of what he's going to do next, and though it tears at my heartstrings in more ways than one, I can't push him away when he leans down to kiss me.

I grip him back fiercely, fearful of what exactly this entails. Without having to say anything, we are making the decision to part ways. I can't remain here while he goes off running after his father, but I can't just help him kill one man either. I have to continue on, fighting for Harry's side just like he is now. He grips me tight, sliding both hands to my waist. For a moment, I forget about what we're about to do.

There's a nagging voice in the back of my mind, reminding me that this could be the first and only kiss we ever share just as his hands pull me tight to his body, feeling every cruve. There's a sense of desperation in that hold, a tinge of pain that he won't voice. I know he's terrified- Merlin knows I am- but the luxurious feel of his lips against mine is dumbing down my thoughts for just a moment. The kiss transformed from soft to forceful quickly, and I can't stop gripping his shoulders. I could be walking on air in this point in time, and there's nothing I want more than to continue on like this forever.

He pulls back too quickly though, setting his forehead against mine. Through blonde fringe and brunette waves he looks on at me. "I expect you to come back to me in one piece you know. Don't be a hero like Potter Hermione; I won't be able to stand for it. I'm sure you're smart enough to survive, so above everything else, _survive_."

I nod silently, unable to muster words. I should have butterflies in my stomach after that passionate kiss, but all I feel is the same emptiness as usual. I can't consider what this means in the aftermath of the war, because we both have to get there first.

"You better survive too," I finally manage to say, looking up at him. He takes a step forward again, kissing my forehead once. It's like a goodbye, but I won't let myself think of it that way. Goodbye means forever, and this can't be forever.

He is gripping my hand. "When I have finished with my father, I'll come find you. I swear I will." He's watching me intently, putting off the time to go out there. "Do you know how to kill?"

"Of course I do," I mutter, thinking he has some of the most random questions.

"Will you?"

But here, I glance down. Just because I can kill, doesn't mean I have. "If I must," I say quietly.

"That's all I needed to know," he whispers, gripping my hand tightly again before moving away entirely. It's a sad moment as he opens the hidden room again, slipping out with me directly behind him. The moment we are out, it closes and spells are shot in our direction.

I block two incoming ones from the same wall as before, barely able to glance in Draco's direction. But I manage to catch flashes of blonde hair, and from the corner of my eye I can see the two men rushing off, Lucius in front of Draco. I'm left alone to handle the two cowards hiding, though I hardly believe that was done on purpose.

His kiss is still fresh on my lips, and I use it to pump my adrenaline and make sure I duel better than ever before. As they reach their arms up again I use two paralyzing spells, watching with satisfaction as the two body's slump over suddenly. Hurrying to the room, I peer over it to see that they are both paralyzed completely. Smiling with satisfaction, I pick up their wands and pocket them.

I told Draco I would kill, but only when necessary.

Hurried footsteps catch my attention, and I glance up to see a very angry looking Death Eater rushing towards me. In the light I can make out his face, and my heart stops. This is Rabastan Lestrange, the very person that helped blind and beat me nearly beyond recognition. He may not be Bella, but he is just as vile.

I brace myself. It's time to face my fears.


	45. Chapter 44 H

**Disclaimer**: All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea.

**A/n**: And here's chapter 44! Thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

* * *

I'm panicked for a moment as I see Lestrange rushing at me, and as he fires a spell I barely have time to duck. The Crucio spell just misses me, but jumpstarts my nerves. There's no time to be scared now, not with so many things going on at once. No one else is coming this way from what I can tell, and I get the feeling that this is just going to be me and Lestrange for a bit.

I immediately rush to my feet, but he stands there with his arms crossed leering at me. I fire one strong spell that he easily avoids, and then we both have our wands pointing at each other.

He's chuckling. "Ah, Mudblood. I never thought we would cross paths again. Thought the Order would shut you up tight when they finally got you back darling."

"They did," I snap, forcing the waver in my voice down my throat. I refuse to show him any fear. "But I won't remain hidden in a time like this. I would rather be out here fighting."

The man rolls his eyes. "Yes girl that sounds like the description Lucius always gave of you. When we captured you here, oh he was ecstatic. He could not wait to ruin you, destroy you till that fucking little warrior in you gave out." He tilts his head. "It appears we didn't go far enough."

"You did plenty. Blinding and tormenting me in the dungeons wasn't enough."

He sneers again. "It wasn't very satisfying. We kept you around for our Lord to finish, and then that fucking Malfoy boy took you away!"

That stops me, and I almost drop my guard. Blinking, I stare at him. "How did you-"

"How did I what? Know that it was Draco that you originally got out of here with? It wasn't too hard to figure out pet; he disappeared the same time you did, the traitor. And when I have spilled your blood I will go find him and end his life as well, if his father doesn't succeed before me."

"You're only assuming that I can't fight," I snap. "If you haven't noticed Lestrange, I did acquire my sight back. And despite the apparent common opinion I can duel."

He chuckles, shoving greasy black hair back from his eyes "Yes, I see that. A present perhaps from dear old Draco? He does have such brilliant connections in Europe you know. I'm sure he probably got those fixed right up for you by some expensive Healer that should've been off helping others, hmm?"

"At least he's trying to make up for the cruelty all the Death Eater's administer on so many people. You're all living in a delusion that when Voldemort wins, things will be better. But how can you believe that living under the rule of a crazed madman is any better than living as an outlaw in a world where the Order prevails? You're still going to be walking on your toes, hoping he doesn't get angry with any of you. I have heard of what happens to those of you who let him down, and it makes me wonder why any of you stay around at all."

He fires a spell at me then but I deflect it- barely. It's powerful and although my barrier holds against the strong spell the force behind it propels me back into the wall. I level my wand again as quickly as possible.

"The only powerful spells you can conjure are those of the Dark Arts," I snap. "I doubt you could hold your own against anyone in an honest duel."

This time Rabastan laughs- actually laughs. "Why would I have an honest duel with you, Mudblood? Perhaps I was wrong about you! Maybe I need to keep you around for a while, make you remember why we beat you down in the first place." He twirls his wand. "I was right before; we didn't break you enough. All the abuse didn't train you to keep your mouth shut, and that you don't deserve our wand. That's why Lucius broke it, so you would never have your own again."

There's a small stab in the back of my mind to actually know that Lucius broke my wand, but I find flaws in this story. If my wand was broken, my magic may not work anymore. He could very well be lying to me, and I brush his comment off.

"I doubt Voldemort would let you of all people keep me. Even if you somehow do win and prevail, he will keep the most sought after people to kill for himself, everyone knows that. He would keep me, he might keep Draco. He wouldn't allow someone to have one of his prizes; it's not his way. If you're still under the impression that the Dark Lord knows how to share Rabastan, then you are highly misinformed. Perhaps you aren't as high up as you like to believe."

If he can mess with my mind, I'll certainly mess with his. And my plan seems to be working, for in the next moment he is firing another hex at me, and I'm deflecting it well now. He is angry, but now his anger is blinding his precision and I know that I've finally gotten to this man. He hurt me, beat me down and took away my ability to see, my sense of security. I'll be damned if he succeeds in doing it again.

I hit the floor to avoid a fire spell, and thankfully the brick wall behind me does not take the heat, so nothing goes up in flames. Scrambling to my feet quickly, I hurry off, firing spells behind me until I locate something to hide behind. He's lurking behind me, firing sinister spells for every clean spell I shoot his way.

Rounding a corner I stumble into a figure, and silently curse. Just my luck, another Death Eater and Rabastan is just behind me. I spin around to attack the figure, but a silenco spell keeps me from muttering my next words. A small body grabs mine and drags me into a nearby room, Rabastan's footsteps coming around the corner.

I can't tell who this person is due to the Death Eater robes, and I'm thrown onto the floor. This figure is only a few inches taller than me, and just as thin. I'm about to get to my feet when the hooded figure removes the mask, revealing a face I only saw on rare occasions while here.

Parkinson puts a barrier around the room before taking the spell off my lips. "Fuck Granger, could you be more difficult? I thought I wasn't going to be able to get you to come in here." She offers me a hand, and after a moment of hesitation I take it.

"Sorry, I don't usually let hooded figures move me wherever they please." She shrugs at that, looking me up and down.

"Seems that since your escape you've finally found a way to gain some weight back, hmm? Well, you look better at least. I suppose Draco isn't being too much of a prat then?"

It takes a moment to process, and I just stare at Pansy as though she's gone mad. "You know?"

"Everyone knows he went with you; he signed himself a death certificate the moment he left with you, you know? I didn't believe it at first, but Blaise told me it was all Severus' idea, so it made me believe." She shrugged. "I thought he would die before he helped someone like you, but I suppose everyone has been changing lately, right?"

I blink, the dumbfounded expression still on my face. "What?"

She gives me a soft smile to this. "I know that Draco told you ages ago that I was with Blaise, but I won't be surprised if you didn't bother remembering. He knew about your escape together- always did- and let me know about how the two of you were doing when we have been able to speak. I tell you, recent weeks have been hard around here. I have enough scars to make a picture, and he's just as bad. I can't believe the lot of you actually dared to come back here."

My eyes flash. "You know who else is here? How-"

"Blaise had me watching when you guys snuck in through the hidden chamber. I was to distract people so they wouldn't notice you. Obviously, it worked." Her eyes meet mine. "He has the best chance now you know- Potter. He has the best chance to kill him now that he's weakened."

I nod, still a bit floored by the events unfolding before me. "You saved me from Rabastan," I finally mutter stupidly. "Thank you for that."

She shrugs, glancing around. "It's nothing, honestly. The spell won't last long in here anyway, considering the magic Voldemort has going on in here. He has spells in place to literally eat at any shielding charms, but he can't prohibit them entirely. Our barrier will disappear in a moments and anyone passing by will be able to hear us."

"Then what do you propose we do- if there is a 'we'. I'm not sure you want to go running around with the likes of me. I am being hunted right now, you know."

Pansy nods. "I know, but there honestly aren't that many Death Eater's here to get in the way. Voldemort was betting that no one would figure out that he wouldn't come, especially since he hadn't heard about you being back at all. Their plans always had a hole or two, so we assumed that you were elsewhere, or dead."

I nod tightly. I suppose it was better to be assumed dead by this side, especially in times like these. There would've been no search for me. "Why are you helping me? We're on opposing sides."

"I know," she said, nodding her head. "At least, that's how it appears. Were I really fighting for them, I would've helped Rabastan kill you."

And then it clicks. "You're the turncoat! You're the spy!"

The raven haired girl frowns my way. "Spy? No, I've never been a spy. Voldemort doesn't believe the women here have much power at all, and he keeps us locked up in our rooms mostly when we aren't fighting. He's unsurprisingly got a male-dominant type of mind. If I sneak out of my room even to see Blaise everyone knows about it, and we're punished. I could never be a spy."

I realize then who it is, and I don't need her to say it. "But Blaise is, that's why you're helping me and that's why you let us in. Blaise is the spy and he is helping us, and you're helping him."

She smiles. "And we're just hoping our help isn't useless. We're hoping that something good happens today. The Order seems to have gotten this surprise attack in, and we can only hope that it will be enough to kill him." She shakes her head. "If he doesn't die everyone currently in this Manor will."

Nodding, I absentmindedly touch my lips. "You didn't see Draco run by, did you?"

The girl seems slightly surprised by my use of his formal name, but she has to know that we are at least on good terms if her boyfriend is Malfoy's best friend. I'm sure that's why she isn't surprised about my eyes either. "I haven't seen them, but Hermione, his father is here. I'm sure he's gone looking for him."

"I saw them run off together, just before I encountered Rabastan. I was hoping you would know where they went."

"No," she replies, beginning to undo her robes. The clothes hidden underneath are simple, surprisingly enough. "But I'll help you find him."

"What are you doing?" I ask in alarm. "Everyone will try to kill you if you don't hide behind that mask. They'll know you're a traitor."

She smiles, pocketing her wand in the simple slacks she wore underneath. "Isn't that the point? Everyone is declaring a side, even Draco. If I'm going to fight I might as well fight on the side I want to. Hell, if they found out later that I'm a turncoat and Voldemort wins, I'll suffer a greater death than a quick spell." I can't argue with that.

"If you're sure," I say, and she nods. She opens the door first, peering out. When she nods back at me, we clamber out into the hall. I only hope I'm not putting my faith in the wrong person.

We're walking down the hall, trying to keep our guard up when a cry rings out. The spell spoken is a terrible one, and my heart stops cold at the sound. The both of us spin around, meeting the harsh light of the oncoming spell as it finds its target, and I scream.

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**A/n:** Do we all remember Pansy? Yeah, I threw her in there. Hope you liked it! But just a little warning… she won't be around too long… and next, we're going to see about Draco!


	46. Chapter 45 D

**Disclaimer**: All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea.

**A/n**: And here's chapter 45! Thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

* * *

Father isn't doing a lot of hexing as we run. I know that I saw the glint of blood fresh near his knee earlier, but I cannot be sure if it is his own or someone else's who fell. He still runs fairly well though- even with that cane, so I assume if it is his, then the wound isn't too severe. And here I was hoping that the bastard was in pain. Silly me.

We rocket around multiple corners, the both of us all too familiar with the paths in this place. I continue to fire spells at him, but the only thing he seems to be doing is reflecting them. I've gotten a few good ones in though, and now his left shoulder is stained in the same crimson color as his knee.

If I were still a Death Eater after all of this I'd be using every dark spell imaginable to bring him to his knees. Everything that has gone wrong for my family returns to being his fault, all because he wanted supreme power beside his lord. He should've known that it would never happen.

I might be the blood traitor, but I would never endanger my mother or- if I ever have one- my wife. It's a foolish, careless thing to do. My father really must have ice in his soul to believe that those harsh actions would eventually amount to productive, pleasant outcomes. Nothing about this confrontation will be pleasant.

I only intend for one of us to walk away, and it certainly shouldn't be him. Mother is in France and cannot wish to see anymore of him, but I still have some blossoming feelings for Granger that need to be looked into. If I perish today those emotions will never amount to anything. There is no room for failure anymore.

Father breaks into a room, and I'm extremely irritated to find that it's his study. Perhaps the only good thing about this is that it's a dead end, so there will be no place left to run; we'll have to duel. I've just stepped through the threshold when he spins around and uses his wand to shut the door. Silence slips over the atmosphere, our heavy breaths the only noise now.

"You dared to return," he spat. "You should've stayed away Draco. You are no son to me any longer."

"Is that supposed to hurt me? Father, I disowned you when you started endangering my life as well as mothers, when you were still beating Granger to the bone. You're a pathetic excuse for a father."

He chuckles. "Ah, I see. I doubt either of us intended for this to be a battle of wits, but you seem to have so much anger reeling beneath the surface. Are you truly that infuriated with me?"

"You think switching sides and stealing mother away to a safe location isn't a sign of pure anger?" I ask, rolling my eyes. "If you are missing such obvious signs, then I don't understand how you ever succeeded as a Death Eater at all. Don't they need some form of intelligence?"

I don't know immediately what part of what I said got to him, but he fires a dangerous spell my way that I quickly deflect. "A little annoyed now?" I mock.

"Where is your mother Draco?" he hisses. "Tell me! She needs to come home!"

"She is home," I reply evenly. "I took her someplace where she will be safe and protected. You will not find her."

Another spell comes my way, and again I fight it off. "Tell me where she is! I have a right to know where my wife had gone."

"A man only has a right to know where his wife has gone if he is worthy of the woman. Your actions before my departure from this Manor were going to cost both mother and I our lives because of the horrid impression you leave on people. There's always a simple reason as to why no one appreciates your presence anymore, but I got mother and I out before we were murdered for your past actions. As we have always said the Death Eater's attack closest to the heart."

"You have no idea what you are talking about boy," he snaps.

"Don't I? I saw the signs, I got help knowing when shit was going to happen. I got the both of us out before we paid for your sins. They are your sins father, and you should be the only one to suffer for them! I will not tell you where mother is because you will only go in search of her and break her spirit again. She might not approve of the company I now keep, but at least I didn't turn into the same monster you aspired to be. If nothing else father, mother can at least say she is proud of me."

Two curses come my way, and I know immediately that the time to talk is over. Dodging the both of them I roll to the side and fire one of my own. Father dodges my attempt and the spell attacks the wall he had been standing in front of instead, darkening the stone. So it begins.

I take the time to try and shove him against the wall using his own desk next, but he just slips over the top before I can pin him. Magical binds appear and try to bind me but I burn them away. As we face off again I vaguely note that his cloak is now torn in the back, an obvious display at how close he was to being smashed.

We continue fighting, and I'm thankful that bloody door is shut tight. This is a family fight, and all the people that keep trying to open the doors need to stay away. Even if it is Hermione on the other side, she just needs to hide until its safe. Father is growing more and more insane the longer we battle and he fails to gain any sort of upper hand. I know it bothers him that his son, his pride and joy once upon a time, can duel as well as he can, but it's all against him. I know it doesn't make him very happy.

"Whatever happened to the Mudblood?" he spat at one point between curses. "You didn't bring her back with you? I thought she might be nearby, considering that you betrayed your family and your lord to get her to safety."

I know what he's doing. He's going to attempt to play at my emotions and get me angry so I'm not as focused and he can take me down. I have to ignore him though; I can't let his tricks beat me out. I refuse to lose to him after so much time of bending to his will. He's using every trick he can to get an upper hand, and I wonder why he is trying so hard. Is he that worried about being beaten out?

"Why I took Hermione from this place is none of your concern." I don't even pay attention to the alarm on his face when I use her name, nor do I care. I could give a fuck less anymore about this man's opinion of me.

"You're so caring to a witch that had her eyes gouged out?" I tense. "She deserved what happened to her Draco, everything. Why don't you see that? Everything that was administered to her physical body and conscious mind was nothing out of the ordinary. There's no exceptionally important dirt, so I don't know why you would ever make her out to be more than she is. She's a _Mudblood_ Draco, and you gave up your place in this family and your place as a Death Eater to take her away. It is the most foolish thing you have ever done."

I know he is playing with me, searching for the perfect set of comments that will make me crack. He may not understand what is really going on between Hermione and I, and why I took her away, but he believes that I wanted to do so. Yet in reality it was Snape that sent me away with her, even against my own judgement. It may not have been my intention to protect her before but it is now.

"I would rather be a traitor than exist as your son any longer. I cannot erase my blood ties to you, but that doesn't mean I have to respect you as my father anymore either. You've let the power behind being Voldemort's bitch blind you from everything else, even what you did to your family. I am proud of saving Hermione father, and nothing you can do will change that. I chose my side, and I intend to stay there even if Potter dies. I will not return to lead a life of lies."

His next hex is gruesome, spoken in a foreign language that I can only just process before I'm hit and thrown backwards. Gashes attack me, burning with the feel of acid. This is a twisted version of Sectumsempra, a spell I am all too familiar with. I got too heated into the argument and didn't brace myself for any sort of attack. I'm getting careless.

Another spell is fired my way, and I force my body to roll out of the line of fire. It hurts to the point where I'm almost screaming, but I can't show father that. He would get too cocky and even more vicious with his attacks. I can't mess around with spells now, not in this state. He could easily kill me in this moment if I don't keep my guard up.

_"I expect you to come back to me in one piece you know. Don't be a hero like Potter Hermione; I won't be able to stand for it. I'm sure you're smart enough to survive, so above everything else, survive."_

I'm not going to be able to keep my half of my deal with Hermione if I let myself be killed. I know my father's tactic; when he is truly angry with someone he drags out the pain, enjoying watching people suffer. He is twisted like that. But usually he snatches their wand away by now, something he has neglected to do to me. I suspect that he is living with the belief that the ungodly amounts of pain attacking my body will keep me down. If that were only the truth.

I roll behind a piece of furniture, forcing myself to pull back up into a crouching position. Again, my conversation with Hermione only minutes earlier shoots through my mind.

_"Do you know how to kill?"_

_"Of course I do."_

_"Will you?"_

_"If I must."_

I've certainly killed before, and I would be lying if I say it's something I'm proud of. But I know what it's like to take a life, something I believe Hermione is lacking. She was out of commission for fighting for a good while during this war, meaning she did not even really have the chance to experience that horrifying feeling. I'm grateful that she hasn't, but I'm glad it's not me. I think I would tremble too much then with what I'm about to do.

"Stop hiding Draco! Face me like a man." I can hear it in his voice that this is a mocking statement, that he doesn't believe I would have the willpower after those spells to stand up again. But I will prove him wrong.

I jump up, spinning despite the pain soaring through my body as blood leaks from open wounds, meeting his eyes. "I wouldn't face you as anything else father, but I will not die at your hand."

He sneers at me. "You have nowhere to run my boy. If I had only spawned a worthy youth, we would not be having this battle right now. You would be on my side."

I smirk at him then despite the pain, wanting him to know that I don't think that would ever be the case. "But I would still be a disappointment father, because if I were still following in your footsteps, I would be a loser like you. You give everything to appease your Lord and the slightest mistake is a punishment beyond feeling. It's a twisted game you play."

"How would you know son? You never did play very well."

"No," I agree, stomaching what I'm about to do. I just know I can't let my mind get the best of me. "But I'll win father. I'm sorry, but I can't let you destroy more lives." I close my eyes half a second before I speak. "Avada Kedavra."

I don't open them as I hear the body fall. I don't want to look. I just gasp and fall back into the floor, blindly twisting my wand to aim at myself. I'm going to have to heal the wounds immediately if I plan to find Hermione. I just don't want to see the body; I don't want to admit that I killed my father.

But I have a sickening feeling in my stomach that this nightmare is far from over.


	47. Chapter 46 H

**Disclaimer**: All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea.

**A/n**: And here's chapter 46! We're almost to the end! Five-ish chapters remaining, which may or may not include an epilogue. We will see. Thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

* * *

I scream, stumbling back half a step before I regain my senses. This attack came from nowhere, and foolishly we were not prepared. I cannot believe that we let our guard down enough to have someone sneak up on us.

The most terrifying thing is that Pansy hits the floor immediately after this foreign spell is called, making no effort to move. Panicked I spin to attack whoever has found us, but discover I don't know this Death Eater. I waste no time disarming and stunning him before I whirl back and check Pansy.

There's a lot of blood. It churns my stomach as I drag her body over, moving her to lie on her back instead of her front, allowing her legs to stretch back out. I can feel the bile rising in my throat as I realize what is causing the enormous amount of red liquid; the spell fired shot a hole directly through her chest- about the size of my fist- just like a muggle bullet would, but on larger proportions. It literally tore straight through her.

I'm choking back my panic as my hands find her face then neck, checking for a pulse. I remind myself that I have magic and quickly cast multiple spells, looking for one that will tell me about her condition. I find her pulse the same time that the spells begin glowing over the most injured areas of her body, but my heart cracks a bit as I note how weak it is.

"Pansy," I say, using one hand to shake her while I use the other to continue casting spells. "Pansy, wake up!"

She groans slightly, but a glance at her face tells me she won't wake. I'm not surprised, but I am horrified. There's so much blood; she's losing it so quickly and I can do so little to help her, to ensure that the blood stops. It's hard to fix a wound when the flesh has been literally blasted away and the entire middle of someone is torn through. I already know that's there's little to do to save her. But that doesn't stop me; Pansy helped me many times while I was here as a captive at the Manor. I have to do something.

I work for the next few minutes, but she never opens her eyes again. When I do finally check for her pulse again, I can't locate one. The panic returns and despite the blood I press my cheek to her chest, searching for one there as well. When the body still exhibits no signs of life, I cast a spell again to see how she is doing, but my fears are confirmed. The heart stopped from the lack of blood, and no longer beats. Her body has gone cold.

I scramble back a bit, fear biting at me. You're supposed to be so fucking courageous in war, but the fact of the matter is that every bloody second is terrifying. I wasn't even close to Pansy, yet I can feel the shakes slowly coursing up my body as the reality sets in that she's dead. This unknown person took her life without a care in the world, and now there's nothing I can do to fix that. What will poor Blaise do when he discovers she died? I squeeze my eyes shut at the thought. It would be heartbreaking to learn something like that. If Zabini survives this, I can't imagine how I will ever tell him.

Glancing at the man I took down, my heart stops as I see that he is moving. I'm half a second too slow as I reach back to snatch up his wand from where I drop it, but the bastard uses a quick _accio_ spell and has it in his grasp in moments. I jump to my feet now, wand shaking in my grip not from fear, but fury.

"You killed her," I say, my voice so dead of emotion I hardly recognize it. The man is on his feet now, glaring at me. I have never seen him before at any other battles, and I can only assume he is new, or not terribly important. Either way, it doesn't matter. I no longer care what his background is.

"Yes, I did," he replies, and it doesn't pass by me that his tone seems a bit stricken. Perhaps this is his first kill, or Pansy was simply not his target. "Yes I did."

"How could you!?" I scream, firing a hex at him that the man narrowly misses. "She wasn't doing anything wrong! She's supposed to be on your side! How could you double cross her and kill her in such a disgusting way? What's wrong with you!?"

"She was conversing with you," he seethed. "You're the enemy. You were once here, suffering at the hands of some of the most prestigious dark wizards in existence. I remember your face, and I certainly know your screams. You're a bit feistier with a wand, but nothing I can't handle. And Miss Parkinson? She was conversing with you civilly, meaning that she had no intention of killing you. Or perhaps she did." He shrugged. "I suppose we'll never know now. But it's my job to kill members of the Order, and I intend on ending your life. Or, perhaps I'll keep you around a bit longer, just so you can meet my dear Lord one last time before you meet your demise."

There are so many flaws in his words that I would like to point out, but for now I drop the subject on Pansy. She died moments ago and the pain is very fresh in my heart; I don't want to give myself any distractions while dealing with this unknown opponent. "You're so confident that your side will win."

He scoffs. "Of course! Harry Potter is just a child, just like Miss Parkinson was. Children do not understand the bloody horrors of war; they don't know what they are getting themselves into. And like you, they cannot take the reality of death. I killed her, and now I'll kill you."

My bloods boiling as I jump to the side, just avoiding his next attack. I recall my earlier promise to Draco, and swallow hard. Poor Pansy is dead- murdered. That is means enough for vengeance, is it not? And this man is malicious enough to keep spitting out bits about murder when I am no longer interested in hearing anything.

We only duel a few minutes more, my mind racing the entire time. I have it set in my mind about what I have to do, but it leaves an uneasy feeling in my stomach. That means crossing lines, going against everything I like to stand for. It's against my better judgment to kill anyone, but I don't think there is any other option. This is war, and I need to learn to kill in case the battles don't end tonight. And after this man so easily slaughtered Pansy, I should have no regrets about my actions. I do recall that she wasn't in the best situation here, even before I could see. The tone of voice she always had was quiet, as though she was afraid of acting up.

Draco did tell me once that Voldemort doesn't have a lot of respect for women. And since she was a female, her time here had to be unpleasant. I don't want to consider what happened to her if she got caught in the halls here at night, even with Blaise in the same placidity. I've witnessed the cruelty, the blatant carelessness of Death Eater's firsthand, and I'm sure if they ever did get the opportunity Pansy was not well treated.

Perhaps she did have more than enough reasons to chance helping me tonight- before even, when I was simply a slave here at the Manor, watched day and night by the one Draco Malfoy. He may not have cared for me to begin with, but he certainly does now. And I'm sure Blaise cared for Pansy in that same way, and it's not fair that she was torn away from him. Ron was torn from us, so I understand the pain. How will I ever tell him?

And that's all the push I need to make my decision. This man seems heartless; he deserves no pity. This might haunt me when I sleep at night from now on, but for right now I don't care. It's simply the time for vegence.

In my decision making, I'm careless to notice that he is aiming for something above me, and I'm a few seconds late to realize that a chandelier is about to come crashing down on me. Ironically, I've seen this scene before; Dobby attempted to drop a chandelier on Bellatrix the day Harry and Ron escaped this wretched place, but now I am the target instead of Draco's crazy aunt. I don't dodge quick enough, and the hanging structure falls on my legs as I slide to avoid being completely crushed.

This is Malfoy Manor, meaning that despite the mass amount of Death Eater's that reside here there are still many valuables. This chandelier is made of something heavy, and as I hit the floor the horrifying feel of bone surges up my legs and I scream, feeling both my tibia bones shatter as the weight crushes my lower legs. I know I've been tortured to near insanity before, but this sudden pain is different from everything else I have experienced. There is a distinct difference between the pain one feels from beams of power surging from a wand, controlled by the caster's will, and lifeless mass objects like this. I let my whole body collapse into the floor, suppressing a second scream. Merlin, it hurts. But the gaps in the initial design of the structure has saved my feet, and I'm at least thankful for that.

The towering figure of the unknown Death Eater covers me in a shadow, and I immediately sit up and glare at him.

"Looks like you're stuck now girl. It's the end of the line. I'm sorry we couldn't play more," he continues, brushing my cheek with his fingers, but I slap him away and don't give him the time of day, "But I can't drag this out forever darling. It's time to end out little game."

I cut him off before he can say anymore, knowing where he is going. "It is over indeed. But not the way you're thinking." I muster up my courage in the next few seconds. "_Avada Kedavra_."

Thankfully I've had my wand tight in my grip the entire time, and the quick whip of my wrist to position it at his face leaves him little time to react. But the green jet shoots off quickly, attacking his form before he can kill me. I scream again when his lifeless body topples over and slumps on me, his wand hitting the floor. I shove his form off, wiggling away the best I can from my current position.

There's death everywhere, and it makes my skin crawl. How in the span of ten minutes did two people die? I saved him from a twisted death like Pansy, but nonetheless it's still something that will be forever implanted in my mind. I killed my first person, and I don't feel any better about Pansy's death. It appears you truly cannot make up for one lost life with another.

I give myself several moments to calm down before attempting anymore magic, knowing my repetitive screams will have drawn someone's attention- anyone's. I'm about to use all my mental strength to try and pull this damned chandelier off my lower legs when footsteps catch my attention and I whip my head around. Relief hits me hard as I recognize the person who rounds the corner; Draco found me.

He takes several moments to get to me, pausing to gape and bow his head when he notices Pansy's lifeless body by the entrance to the room. Then he is rushing towards me, checking to my side to be sure that the man on the ground is dead before he kneels beside me. Even before he speaks, I can see there are many questions in his eyes.

"I'll explain later," I hiss, beckoning to the mass trapping my legs. He says nothing, just stands and wandlessly moves the item away. I forget sometimes that he is incredibly skilled.

When I move to stand, he stops me. "Don't; the bones are broken. I don't have the potions to heal you here."

I nod once, thankful that there are no cuts to allow blood to leak out. "We need to hide then."

"Yes," he replies, but the compassionate man that left me a bit ago is no longer there. I suspect that more than one thing is currently haunting his thoughts, but in all honesty we can't let that happen. Neither of us- none of us actually- can be distracted. We need to work to survive, after all.

"Let's go back to the room," I say, pain edging its way into my voice again. "The one you had us hiding in before. It'll be safer up there, at least for now." To this he softens, remembering that I am indeed hurt. For the moment he appears to push his concerns away into the back of his mind, and he scoops me up with ease.

"Be prepared to fight if necessary," he whispers, holding me close. Something is unsettling him, I can feel in from the tremble in his chest as he talks. But for now I only place my hand on his chest, hoping to provide some form of reassurance as I fight off the unbearable pain, but he just glances at me. I can tell in his eyes that he thinks that it's backwards for me to be the one comforting him, and I resign to resting my head on his chest. Only then do I notice that there is a bit of stickiness there; blood. I bite my tongue, refusing to ask what happened. There will be time for that when we aren't dangerously out in the open.

We've only just begun walking back in that direction- having just passed Pansy's body when it happens. The entire structure shakes, and he stops walking to look at me. I stare back with the same confused expression, feeling the ground rumble. Through one of the windows I see a stream of black flying by outside, and my eyes widen.

"Hit the ground- now!" I lurch, forcing him to follow me to the floor. It hurts like hell when my legs touch, but I pay it no mind as I grasp at his hands, indicating that we have to protect our heads. He puts up a quick barrier spell, and a moment later it proves its worth.

Every piece of glass around us explodes, and the shaking of the Manor continues as screams begin erupting throughout the structure from those attacked by the breaking glass.


	48. Chapter 47 D

**A/n**: Hello again! A chapter in just one week… wow, I'm a wonder right now! That's right, read it up because there's one more coming and a nice epilogue! The end is coming… Thanks again to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

* * *

I keep Hermione's upper body hidden beneath mine until the noise slowly begins to quiet down. There are screams- so many fucking screams- but I don't let her push up and have a look. I keep my face down as well, afraid to glance out at the world. I don't know what alerted her that something bad was going to happen, but I'm thankful she took notice. If neither of us had paid attention, we would likely be dead right now else screaming like the others who did not realize something awful was going to happen in time. I don't want to look back up and be met with the sight of endless rivers of blood and bodies again.

At one point she is nudging hard, and I do decide to whip my head up and have a look. Around us the glass is covering the stone ground like stones, and I cringe. It's unpleasant, and it will take ages to wade through. Slowly shifting off of her, Hermione gets a glance at what is around us as well. I notice that she is gaping at the scenery, but at least there are no new bodies marring the scene. I don't dare glance back and see the body of my friend- of Pansy- lying there on the ground, probably worse off now that shards have fallen all over her. When Hermione attempts to glance back in that direction, I gently stop her head and turn it in the opposite direction again. We are going to remember these events for the rest of our lives; we may as well keep some of our sanity. And Hermione seems pretty alarmed about Pansy's death- perhaps as much as I am- and she has already suffered enough. I don't want her having to focus on anymore horrid things.

"What happened?" I finally ask, breaking the unbearable silence encasing our protective bubble. She mutely shakes her head, obviously shocked. I reach out and pull her a bit closer, mindful of her legs. I need to get her someplace to help with those, but I'm not sure it's safe to go anywhere yet. She drops her head onto my chest, and I can no longer tell if her eyes are scanning the perimeter around us or not. Gently, I cover her eyes. "Don't look."

I suppose it's just the fact that she is losing lots of blood, but she does not argue. She twists instead to hide against my chest, and I'm mindful that there are still gashes in my skin, some of which I just didn't bother completely healing because I was too worried about finding her. But these blemishes are not missed by her, and she pulls away a moment later to look at me.

"What are those?" she asks in a trembling voice. I have to glance past her face to her calves again, noting how red and bent they are. Kissing her cheek, I gently push her off to lie on the ground, keeping the same position she had while resting on me.

"They're nothing," I say, sitting beside the broken bones. "They're not hurting me now Hermione, don't fret. You don't need to get stressed out right now."

She grips my hand in response once, and then the hold slackens. I suppose she just doesn't want to see what I'm going to do. I don't blame her, because the gashes do look pretty awful. This is not the ideal place to try and heal her, but I'm getting more and more paranoid about the blood loss. She needs to get to safety but it's better if the wounds are closed, right? Besides, I have absolutely no idea what I can do in this moment, or what is going on in the Manor. Something major has to be going on for the glass to break in, but what? I want to sit and wait and see if a slew of Death Eater's appear, or if this is something else entirely. Part of me wants to take her back to the room we vacated only a short time ago, but I have no way of knowing if I can get there without having to duel others. She's my main priority right now.

Hopefully, some of those Order members we came with will appear from somewhere, and we'll have a way of knowing what's going on. But so far I don't see anyone living approaching, and we won't be moving until someone does. Using a slicing spell, I gently cut the fabric away from her skin, trying to ignore her whimpers of pain as I pull the material off the skin. She is worse off than I was after dealing with father, what with gashes _and_ broken bones. I am not skilled with healing spells, and know I will need a potion to do anything about that as well. Looks like I really can't do much for her.

It's a grueling process to get all the cuts healed, and my heartstrings break a little when I make her scream when I accidently nudge one of the broken bones. But eventually the gashes are closed, and though she did loose far too much blood I at least kept her from dying. Now if only I knew what to do next.

Looking around again, I gently touch her face with the single finger I have that isn't wet with blood. She's sweating, attempting to be helpful by looking around for people. But I don't want her worrying about that; I want her resting, trying to remain conscious until I can do something to help her more.

"Relax," I say quietly, meeting her eyes for a brief moment. She looks up, and I note the tears still trying to stay back. Of course she's hurting, but aside from a numbing spell there's little I can do. "Just look at me."

Hermione does focus on me now, but I can't keep my attention solely on her. I keep my head constantly swiveling, searching for help. A few minutes later I hear it; the sound of rushed footsteps.

She hears it too, and tries to stand with me, but I gently shove her back. It won't help matters one bit if I have to retrieve her from the floor instead of being alert and prepared, just in case I need to guard the barrier from an advancing opponent. There's no way of knowing if it's the Order or a Death Eater coming our way.

The face is shadowed at first when the person rounds the corner, but I can tell it's a female right off. As light dances across the approaching figure, I finally recognize who it is; Lovegood. I open the barrier for her as she races towards us, using a spell to shove the shards to the side. She barrels in and nearly trips over Hermione's legs, something I almost shove her back out for.

She's gasping, looking wide eyed between the two of us. When the girl almost collapses, I force her to remain standing. Now this little bubble is a bit crowded, and if Hermione needs anything I need to be able to reach her easily without tripping over Looney's figure on the ground. The blonde takes a few more deep breaths before her breathing returns to normal, and then she nods.

"I'm glad I found someone," she gasps, glancing down at Hermione's legs again. "Merlin, what happened to you?"

"I'll tell you later," the Gryffindor mutters, glancing at me. I'm not quite sure what that look means, but I know what I'm going to ask our new arrival.

"Do you know what happened to cause the glass to break in?" She shakes her head once, and I cringe. "No one seems to know."

"I was down in the dungeons dueling when it happened," Lovegood explains. "I heard screams from above and finished the battle with the Death Eater before racing upstairs." She's shaking her head again now. "There were bodies… bodies everywhere… just impaled with glass. Any stray Death Eater's were skewered, and I could barely stand to look at it, let alone help anyone. I freaked, and ran back down through the dungeons to the west entrance. It was the same over there; glass everywhere, but there weren't any bodies. I lost Fred and George long before that happened, and decided to look for them. I ended up finding you first."

I nod. "Did you see any other Order members on the way? Any that died?"

She shakes her head. "Thankfully, no. You two are the first friendly faces I've seen in a bit." I'm a bit alarmed that she referred to me as friendly.

"The glass took out most anyone then?" Hermione asks from her position on her back, and I know she's thinking about her friends that are still here. My thoughts drift to Pansy and Blaise, and I hope Blaise stays far away from this section of the Manor for his own good.

Looney nods grimly. "From what I've seen, yes. You two are the only ones I've found unaffected."

"Then our odds don't sound too good," I mutter.

"They aren't," she replies. "But I think we should keep looking, or at least moving. We don't know what's going to follow that outburst."

Agreeing with Lovegood's oddly intelligent reasoning, I pick Hermione back up and we set off walking, following the direction of Looney's choosing. I direct her to places I think people may have gone for shelter, but nothing turns up good. At some point, Hermione falls asleep against me and I chant a spell to keep her half awake. There's no way I'm letting her fully fall asleep after losing so much blood; I don't want her in a coma.

We end up walking through the entire west side of the Manor before we find anything interesting- or rather, something interesting finds us. A flash of red hair catches my attention and half a moment later one of those twins knocks Lovegood off her feet, nearly hitting us. I keep myself upright though, and Hermione out of any additional pain.

"George!" The blonde girl cries, jumping up to embrace twin one. Twin two is nowhere in sight, and I raise an eyebrow at that. Everyone is turning up in little groups, though it's not a good thing. It makes me wonder how many of us actually survived.

"Luna," he whispers in return, hugging her tightly. Unlike Lovegood, he is marred in cuts and what appear to be burns, though nothing life threatening appears on his physique. They seemed to have avoided the blunt of the explosion like we did, though George not as well as the rest of us. "I was worried about you."

"As was I," she declared, pulling back. "Where's Fred?"

He glances down. "I can't find him; we got separated only a few minutes before the explosion, and he was headed this way. I haven't been able to locate him yet." The ginger glances over her head at us, looking first at Hermione and then up at my face. "Is she alright?"

"She will be," I reply, unable to respond with anything else. I refuse to believe anything else. "I need to get her some serious medical attention as soon as possible."

"I see," he replies, looking around. "But what we really need to do is find Harry."

"What good is that going to do if he is still with Voldemort?" I snap.

Twin one's eyes narrow. "Because Malfoy, something of epic power must've been at fault for such a mass amount of destruction. What else would it be if it were not a battle between Harry and Voldemort? And if you ask me, Voldemort seems like the showy type, who would either already be calling throughout this Manor about this victory, else calling forth whatever Death Eater's remain to explain that he has killed the boy who lived. But all I see is destruction; no sign of a villain appearing anywhere. Our best bet is to go looking for Harry and Remus, even if that path is obscured by a bunch of rubbish."

I bite my lip, pulling Hermione tighter to me. He has a point, if one can call it that. No one really knows what to do now that things have taken a turn for the worst, and I suddenly find my eyes dancing around. Better than anyone out of our little group, I know the Death Eater's. If I can find anyone who could be of use- hopefully one that's alive- I'm going to need to stop them. It wouldn't do any good to walk into a room where Voldemort really is victorious. My stomach is in knots as we finally decide to embark that way, with me leading the way.

This plan isn't a good one; I don't want to be responsible for everyone's life. Looney and twin one are going to count on me to lead them in the right direction, but the fact of the matter is I don't care. The only person I'm at all concerned about is Hermione, the witch that is still fighting got consciousness in my arms.

I'm not even entirely sure if my feet will actually carry me to where I know Voldemort's meeting room is, or to the outside where I can apparate her to safety. I know Hermione would want me to go and find Potter, but my gut tells me not to. The last thing I want to do is have her die in my arms. That's something I would not be able to live with.


	49. Chapter 48 D

**Disclaimer**: All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea.

**A/n**: Here's the newest. There's one final chapter, then the epilogue! We're almost done! Thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

* * *

When Hermione did find the strength to look up at me, I broke and went to find bloody Potter. She would never forgive me if I abandoned him now, and certainly not after she already lost Weasley. She's so frail in my arms at the moment that it's terribly alarming, but there's nothing I can do about that. I just keep walking in the direction of Voldemort's lair, my panic rising with each step. If he is truly there, I'm abandoning the others. The moment he realizes how injured she is, he will go after her and I can't stand that.

She tries to whisper to me at some point on the walk, but I can't understand her. I only hope that she will keep fighting the pain. At one point I whisper another numbing spell, but I'm not sure it helped. She doesn't show any change in her demur because of it, and I'm frightened that nothing will help now. The longer we walk, the more I want to bolt away. She needs help, and I'm a complete arse for ignoring the obvious signs. But that little voice in the back of my mind keeps reminding me over and over that she would want me to locate her friend; she would want to know if Potter was alive.

I knew Potter caused nothing but trouble.

At long last we reached the location where I knew Voldemort spent much of his time. The glass was broken here as well, but it was different. Despite moving the glass to the side I can still feel heat radiating off the texture, which is so unlike before. The glass wasn't hot anywhere else, but here it's almost steaming. I glance at the face of twin one, reading the worry on his features. He and Looney pull out their wands to defend themselves from whatever is in there, but I take a step or two back. Looney notices, and glances my way.

"Aren't you coming?"

I nod to the bundle that is still a suffering girl in my arms. "I can't protect her like this and fight at the same time. If there is reason to worry, I'm sure I'll be able to hear it from out here. The lot of you won't duel if Potter's the one standing in there."

Looney nods in return, looking unsure. "Where do we find you if it is Harry?"

I recall the room I dragged Hermione into earlier as a safe place, but quickly I discard the idea. They wouldn't know how to find that. "I'll be in the room next door," I finally said, indicating to the open space at the side. Only I know that there's a secret escape through the wall if things are going to turn bad. If Voldemort is in there, biding his win in solitude for a few minutes, then I don't want Hermione anywhere nearby when the fight begins. She simply wouldn't survive. "Come get me if everything is safe."

The girl agrees, glancing at her ginger counterpart for approval. He doesn't say a word in response, only nods my way. There's something glinting in his eyes, but it's far from tears. I'm not entirely sure what emotion that is, but I won't waste my time on it. I quickly move across the hall, slipping into the archway with ease. This is a space that doesn't touch the outer walls, and no glass litters the floor. I quickly move and set her on the closest sofa, mindful of her legs. Before I do anything to her though, I set up a protective barrier to hopefully keep us safe in case something does go astray.

Am I still a coward, for hiding in here with her instead of fighting whatever is left in that room? I shake my head of that thought, needing a clear mind. Studying Hermione, I touch her cheek. It's hot to the touch, and I whisper a cooling spell. She has a temperature, and that does little to help my mindset to know she's getting worse. We just need to get out; there is little I can do here anymore.

The wait to know what is the outcome of Potter and Voldemort's confrontation seems to take an eternity, and I find myself moving to sit beneath her, resting her head across my legs. She looks very frail after losing so much blood, and I grip one of her hands to pull it to my mouth, kissing it softly. I'm a bastard for not helping her out more, but what else can I do? I could leave at this very moment, but part of me doesn't want to. I need to know what has happened, after coming all this way.

"Draco!" The voice startles me from my thoughts, and I whip out my wand immediately, moving her head as gently as I can in my rush to get up. But as my eyes focus on the figure outside the barrier, I feel my heart dropping a bit.

Blaise.

I move quickly, taking down the barrier as I walk. My friend hurries through, the cuts on his face a dominant feature compared to his eyes at this point. He's streaked in blood, grime, and burn marks, but he's alive. We meet partway, and he is gasping.

I can't help the snarky comment that follows. "I suppose that means we won then?"

He grins, straightening up beside me. "You'd be right mate. Potter actually defeated him- something that I am more than willing to now admit that I didn't believe. He is after all, just as old as you and I. But he did defeat him, and they went up in this whirlwind of dark smoke and blew all the glass in actually, just before Voldemort's death. It was certainly a spectacle."

"Indeed. I wonder what exactly caused the glass to break though."

"Who knows," he replies, his voice trailing off as his eyes land on the figure behind me. "Fuck, is that Granger?"

I nod stiffly, hurrying along with him to her side. "I need to get her out of here," I whisper to him. "I had to bring Looney and that bloody ginger here, and now my job is done. She needs serious medical attention, the kind which I cannot administer." I glance up at him, my figure bent further over on the couch. "I have to get her out."

My Italian friend nods, taking a step back. "Remus is dead," he declares, eyes nearly void of emotion suddenly. "One of the twins is missing, so someone will need to go searching for him. Draco, if you must take her back to Hogwarts, then let them know what has happened. The numbers on the battlefield have to be thinning out by now. We need to stop the killings; they are senseless now."

I nod my agreement, picking Hermione up again. She groans in my arms, moving to bury her head against me. I hold her tight, the ever present worry increasing by the minute. "What about you then? Do you plan to inform Potter and the others of where I have gone? They will not be happy if no one explains where we went- especially Hermione; Potter would have a fit."

"Yes, I plan to do that," he replies, but I hear something else in his voice and narrow my eyes.

"Is that all you plan to do?"

He glances away, apparently unable to look my way. "I'll tell them what's going on, but I really have to find Pansy. I'm worried about her. I told her to come find me just as soon as the lot of you got inside. But she never came."

I can feel my heart rate accelerating. If it were Hermione that had died, I couldn't bear the idea of her death. I certainly wouldn't want my best mate to tell me about it either, but isn't it better to tell him than to watch him run off in search of her, only to find a corpse? He honestly doesn't need that mental image in his mind; no one does.

"I don't think that's a good idea," I reply, my fingers softly rubbing Hermione's back. She's shivering, yet her skin is very warm. I can't wait much longer. "I don't think you'll like what you find."

Now his eyes narrow. "What does that mean Draco?" he asks, his voice hardening. There's an edge to his voice now, like he is afraid of what I am going to say next. Maybe he should be afraid.

I grip her tighter. "She's gone," I say quietly, unable to say that she's dead. Pansy was my friend, one of the very best friends I ever had. Knowing that she is gone is a huge blow to my heart, even if I wasn't romantically attached to her.

For a moment there is absolutely no reaction from Blaise, and I think perhaps he chose not to hear me. But then he lashes out with his hands and I just barely spin around quick enough to keep Hermione out of harms away, letting him hit my back hard. Anger quickly boils inside me, considering that he attempted to attack me, even if he would hit her first. I use a difficult levitation spell to hastily move her to the sofa again, spinning around in time to face Blaise to have his hand connect with my jaw. I stumble back, pain shooting through my jaw.

"You're lying," he snaps, advancing on me. "Don't spit me lies Draco; it's low, even for you!"

I'm in no mood to battle Blaise, not with Hermione's life in jeopardy. Playing dirty, I use wandless magic to knock his feet from under him and he hits the ground, hard. Obviously something took over his mind in that moment when I told him Pansy was dead, and it's not going to help anyone for us to continue talking during his blind rage.

"I'm not fighting you Blaise," I declare sternly. "Not now. You can go searching for her if you so fucking please, but I suggest you don't. You're not going to like what you find, and no amount of accusations towards me on your part is going to change the reality of things."

He sits up slowly, glaring at me through hooded eyes. "Get away from me."

I hold up my hands. "Don't do anything rash Blaise. I would like to see you again."

The Italian huffs, standing and turning away from me immediately. He flips me off as he walks, but I pay him no mind. If he isn't going to take what I said with a grain of salt then there is nothing I can do to change that. I ignore him now, scooping her up in my arms again. I've wasted enough time here, and I won't waste anymore.

Perhaps I can apparate now, now that Voldemort is dead.

* * *

I return only a few hours later to the Manor. With the fall of Voldemort, the Dark Mark began deteriorating almost immediately. It didn't take long for the Death Eaters to notice, and with renewed vigor the majority of the group was taken out or captured. Those that did escape cannot hide forever.

My footfalls echo through the ancient halls of my home now, the structure mine alone now that father is dead and mother is in France. Without Voldemort lurking in the halls, the structure answers only to my magic now.

But there remains a soul here that I left behind, one that I abandoned in an effort to save Hermione. She is resting now, unable to wake up due to the heavy potions currently coursing throughout her body. She will be out for the rest of today, perhaps into tomorrow. Which is just fine with me, since I can use the time to compose myself; I don't want to alarm her about what happened. Sure, Potter is injured, but he's alive. And when she is awake I fully intend to take her to see him, so she can hear firsthand what happened. Her legs might be sore, but I'm certain she won't care. She'll likely just be happy that it's over, and her side won.

Well, _our_ side won.

Glass is easier to move now that I'm not searching for people who might attack me. I know this place by heart, and it's simple to find where I want to go. He's sitting beside the body, softly stroking her hair. As I grow closer, I notice that he has closed her eyes.

"You weren't lying?" he says dully, though it doesn't sound too much like a question, more of a statement.

"Afraid not," I reply, slowly sinking into the ground across from him. There we sit, Pansy's body strewn on the floor between us, her blood soaking into the floor.

I almost say that we should move her, but cut myself off. The pain there on my friend's face is evident, and I can't muster any words. We will move her; place her somewhere where she can be burned correctly, like all the other victims.

But for now we sit in silence, staring into space. The war might be over, but the pain is only just beginning.


	50. Chapter 49 H

**A/n**: Here's the last chapter! An epilogue awaits, and then it's the end… Thanks again to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

* * *

I pull Draco along the halls. Hogwarts is now housing the wounded to help St. Mungo's, which is at maximum capacity after all the injured war victims left to be treated. We have some Healers here now, helping to treat the survivors. I know the names of some who have fallen- like Remus, Tonks and Fred- and it's created a gap in my heart. Everything is over now, in a sense. There should be no more fighting; no more death over blood impurity. But you're a fool if you believe it all ends with one man, and I know the battles have only begun. Until every last Voldemort follower is captured, the war is not terminated. There are still those out there who will want to kill, just because their leader is dead.

But I can't think about this now. My heart is still hurting, and I don't want to focus on problems that are sure to come. There will be time for that someday, but for now I want some rest. Months have been dedicated to fighting, and now I need a break.

Draco is being quite sweet the last few days, what with my broken legs. He was nice, and he didn't even chase Ginny and Luna away when they visited. I wish Harry would come down, but he's been in bad shape and needs more rest than most anyone. I will have to go see him, and that's what I intend to do. With only a slight soreness remaining where broken bones were a few days prior, I am quite ready to prowl the halls in search of my best friend. And I doubt Draco would let me out of his sight right now. He's being quite paranoid really, what with the escaped Death Eater's still hiding someplace. But Aurors will be sent out sometime soon to search for them, and hopefully his mind will ease.

After everything, I'm not about to let some exaggerated murderers scare me. I'm quite lethal with a wand mind you, and now that I have accepted the fact that sometimes one must kill, nothing is going to stop me from protecting myself. But it is sweet for him to be so worried. At least he cares.

"Hermione," he says at length, wrenching himself from my grip. I turn and glance at him in the hall, now that we are three floors above where we started five minutes ago. "I know you want to see him, but you can slow down just a hair. Potter is on bed rest for the next few weeks; he won't go anywhere."

I roll my eyes. "I know he won't, but that doesn't change the fact that I want to see him. We haven't spoken since he won, since we have both been unable to leave our designated rest areas, and I am eager to hug him. Ron didn't make it, and I've had a terrible feeling in the back of my mind since we left for Malfoy Manor that he might not either, and that was something I couldn't bear. But Harry is a survivor, and I intend to envelope him in a hug."

Draco sighs. "If you insist… but I would much rather simply follow you than be dragged along the corridors like a disobedient puppy."

I smile softly, grasping his hand again. "Then we have to walk side by side, and you have to actually keep up this time!" I begin pulling him along, and he reluctantly follows. We wander the rest of the way at a slower pace, the silence covering the both of us.

When we do reach Harry's room, he pushes me ahead and waves me off. I knew he wouldn't come in, because he feels like he is invading our privacy as friends when he stands in the back. It's uncharacteristic for him though, and I suspect he is only being so agreeable because he does blame himself for my legs getting broken, all because he wasn't around to help. It's a silly thing to blame oneself for, but nothing I say deters that thought in his mind. I just leave it alone now. With a soft kiss goodbye for now, I turn and walk into the room.

Harry is propped up against an outrageous amount of pillows, looking a bit ashen and very, very tired. However, his face does perk up quite a bit when he notices me, and a weary hand beckons for me to draw closer.

"Hermione," he says, though his voice sounds strained. It's as though he yelled for too long, and this is the result. "It's good to see you."

"You as well," I reply, sitting down next to him quickly. He doesn't have any visible wounds except some bloody cuts on his hands, all of which have been bandaged up if need be. His eyes have bags under them, which I know are partially from the days and weeks leading up to his confrontation with Voldemort. Now that the meeting is over, he can hopefully get some true rest.

He chuckles softly. "Don't lie Hermione. I know I'm not the best to look at right now; I look bloody awful. Ginny attempted to come in earlier and help make my appearance better, but I sent her away." He shakes his head slowly. "She only meant well, but I would never wear that hideous make up she brought with."

I really smile at that. Ginny would try to make Harry feel better about how he looks, even using silly things like make up over a glamour spell. "I'm sure she did," I agree tilting my head. We fall into mindless chatter for a few minutes, both of us unwilling to move onto less pleasant subjects.

At length, I can no longer put the conversation off. "Harry?" I begin with uncertainty, but he holds up a hand and shushes me.

"I know what you're going to ask Hermione; the question has been in your eyes since you walked in." I look down guiltily as he continues on, not wanting him to think I have only come to see him for answers. "I suppose I would be very curious too as to how things went down between opposing enemies. I heard Malfoy was taking care of you while I was dealing with this."

"Yes, he was. He kept me alive after a bad confrontation, when my bones got smashed. But I'm fine now."

"I can see," he agrees with a heavy sigh. "I suppose it's a spectacle really, how things worked out. I ended up being the final horcrux to kill him actually; not sure if you ever learned that. I was told neither of us could live while the other survives."

I nod, having been briefed of what happened before Harry went to face the crude man. "I heard rumors."

"They were true. We faced off, and I thought for a while that I wasn't going to win. Even weakened, he still put up a fight, using some of the nastier spells he and the Death Eater's have been creating in these past months." He beckons to one of his hands. "I received this one from one of those spells. It causes the bone to spilt and perturb itself through the skin, tearing any ligaments or muscles in its path. It's rather nasty actually."

"Sounds like it."

"And then he killed me. I sent a spell his way at the same time, and in his distraction at a possible victory he let the spell hit and kill. He fell into this hypothetical vortex, someplace between life and death. I wish I could really explain it, possibly even show it to you, but I can't. It's really a strange place though, and I met… well I met Dumbledore there. We spoke, and I promise sometime I will indulge you on all that was said, but in the end he gave me the opportunity to die in that moment and never face pain or heartbreak again, now that Voldemort was gone. I didn't fully understand everything- or at least not completely- but I didn't think I could let go of my life so easily. I had to come back, to see people like you and Ginny and Neville. I couldn't just let myself die."

I nod, agreeing with the decision he made. At the same time, I place multiple questions in the back of my mind to ask him later when he is well. There's so much I want to know.

"Did you ever see a grey cloud of some sort?" I ask, recalling the spectacle I saw just before the glass of Malfoy Manor blew in.

Harry grimaces. "When I returned to my body, well, it seemed like minutes had passed during my conversation with Dumbledore but in reality it was only seconds. I returned gasping, unable to stand. As I collapsed, the body of Vodlemort began to deteriorate, much like the Professor Quirrell did back when we found the Philosophers Stone. It was surreal really. And then, this ungodly cloud surged from the disappearing particles of flesh, and the glass began blowing in. I learned later that this happened throughout the entire Manor. I just think that will all that power stored in a human body, it could not simply disappear. There had to be an outlet, some sort of final surge to release all the energy. I can only guess that that is what it was."

Sitting back, I ponder what he has said. It's an interesting theory, but I doubt that anyone has really investigated it thoroughly. After declaring that I plan to look into the phenomenon, we say our goodbyes. As I am walking to the door, he stops me with a few words.

"You should tell Malfoy thank you for me. I'm sure you're headed off to see him now."

I glance over my shoulder at him, surprised. "Well, yes, I am. But why?"

He smiles softly, tilting his head up just a bit. "For keeping you alive Hermione. I lost one of my best friends due to this war, I'm not entirely sure I would've survived losing the other. Friends keep you grounded after all, even when they think they aren't doing anything at all."

I nod once, turning without a response. His words reply in my head as I leave, wandering down the hall. That meeting was not of friends, but two distant aquientinces. Has it really been that long since I connected with my friends?

* * *

Draco thinks it's just the chilling aftermath of war, the dull numbness of having lost so many that kept me from exhibiting honest emotions when I saw Harry. I should've been elated, overjoyed that we lived throughout it all. But neither of us appeared happy. War was a humbling affair, one which really puts into perspective what is and is not important. With the weight of so many fatalities looming over everyone's heads, I believe that is the mindset everyone currently finds themselves in just days after ending the Dark Lord's reign of terror- or what almost was a reign of terror. He never quite succeeded.

As for my blonde boyfriend, he is more humble than I have ever seen. Killing his father in cold blood truly had some lasting effects on him, and it appears that his mind is currently fucked. For many days, he wanders the halls of the school like a vegetable, speaking to no one, not even me.

That's how I found him the morning after I visited Harry. He gave some good insight, and then everything played with his mind during the night. Blaise is no help with his current state, considering that he is mourning the loss of a girl he loved, someone he declared his fiancé hours before her untimely death. If my heart didn't go out to him before, it does now.

But I know Draco's mind isn't forever gone, not really. He is just like the rest of us, trying to work with what is left of Britain. The city was segregated into sections as battles were fought, and now that everything is drawing to a close no one dares to venture out and find the bodies that were never located. No one wants to know what happened to those who never returned from raids, or fights.

We can't ignore them though, not really. If Britain- if London- ever wants to exist as it once did, we must rebuild and move on. We have to accept what happened, no matter how difficult that may be. Even with those thoughts in my mind, I still cry when we locate someone who died in a horrible way. The search parties grow each day, as more and more people come to terms with what must be done.

It's been six days since I visited Harry, five since Draco started wandering the school like a vegetable. But this morning, on the seventh day, he joins the search parties, ready to help. I'm proud of him. I have joined them too.

It's all this world can do now; start over. And hopefully, this time one man won't ever find the power to enslave so many. New things are going to come from this war, and it's going to change the way everyone looks at people, at villains. I grip Draco's hand beside me as we begin walking out to search the former Death Eater grounds, together this time.

Everything will change for the better. We just have to give it time.


	51. Epilogue

**Disclaimer**: All characters belong to J. K. Rowling. Just my idea.

**A/n**: The last chapter confused some people I think. This is the actual final chapter, so my bad for wording it stupid. Please note that this is **written in third person** just like the very first introduction chapter. I hope you enjoy the final installment! Huge thanks to my beta **Tessa Cresswell**!

* * *

She leaned up on her toes and softly kissed his lips, his callused hands holding onto her as though his life depended on it. He pulled her deeper into the kiss, relishing in the feel.

Months had passed since the fall of Voldemort. Those who disappeared into hiding began coming back into the light, though they were not outright accepted. More than a few of the courageous souls that stayed to fight to the end did not take it lightly that they had completely abandoned them out of the fear of losing their own lives. It rubbed too many people the wrong way, and left an unsettled feeling in everyone's stomachs. The war may have ended, but attitudes were still high.

They had begun to rebuild their world for the last few months, resurrecting what they could in the process and slowly searching for a new Minister. Mr. Weasley took up the position in the end- something many did not trust- but so far he appeared to be doing a fine job. Hermione supported him, as did Harry and many of the Order members, and that trust helped turn skeptics into believers. People might not be completely pleased with the idea but they had learned to accept it.

The bodies were slowly disappearing from the streets; carcasses removed to clear the land for another day. Mother's let go of their children's hands when the roads were clear, signaling that it was safe to look about. There were more funerals than anyone could count; they came in masses, with far too many people filling the spaces where the dead were buried. The graveyards filled to the brim, yet despite it all even those who fought the opposing side were not forgotten. If Mr. Weasley was anything, he was noble, and he did not allow the bodies of anyone to be crucified and reconfigured in any way. The time to be vicious had ended, and he was not eccentric to allow more abuse and vile actions to continue. The dead deserved to rest in peace.

For Hermione, one of the most terrifying things was returning to the space she found Neville in. After the Death Eater's were pulled from the structure, Aurors- along with Hermione, Draco, and a few others- went in to remove the dead. It was certainly a slaughterhouse, with scenes too grotesque for many to bear. It was the stage for violent interrogation tactics, many that the Order tried to dance around when they considered what fates awaited the captured. Now they knew very well what had happened to them, and it was simply something she could not stomach to look at.

So many of them were her friends at one point, and now they lay misconfigured, beaten and lifeless on a ground that had once been coated in blood. No one wanted to witness that, but there was no way around it. The bodies needed to be removed from the battle zones and replaced into the ground where they would not be disturbed. Many doubted that even Voldemort himself would disturb a buried corpse.

But then, he did bother poor Dumbledore to find the elder wand. Perhaps bothering the dead wasn't outside his realm of beliefs after all. But they would never know now.

Malfoy Manor was certainly the hardest place to visit. The bodies were in just as bad of shape as anywhere else, but that did not stand as the only problem. With Voldemort dead, the dark magic surrounding the structure that was created by him disapparated, leaving the Malfoy line to be the only people that could cross the boundaries. When Draco could finally be convinced to bring Aurors to the structure to find the bodies, he did so with a heavy heart. This was the place he had grown up in- called home- and now it would be forever known as the grounds of one of the most awaited battles in history. For some reason, he didn't much appreciate the title.

After that, he did not return. It had been months since the battle ended, yet he stayed away from the place as often as possible. Hermione tried to talk to him once about it, to see if he would elaborate on his actions, but he shut her out. He was very unhinged about the entire subject.

Their kiss together deepened, allowing his larger tongue into her mouth to play with her own. It was a superb feeling, one which she had never experienced at such volumes. She gripped his wrists, enjoying the peaceful moment together. When they could find time to just be alone, they milked it up. With the rebuilding of a country underway, there wasn't much time to simply enjoy one another's company.

He pulled back first, resting his head against her own, his eyes closed. She didn't exactly expect him to look at her though, not with their previous conversation looming about them. She knew that it hurt him more than anything to talk about Pansy, about Blaise- about the horrible things that went on between them during the last hours of war. And things had not gotten better.

Pansy was of course dead, and her body was buried beside her mother's in a nearly full graveyard by the time it was removed from the Manor. Blaise had a small funeral progression set up just for her late at night, ignoring the mass gathering earlier on in the day. Few people were invited to watch him mourn. Fewer attended. No one could stand the sad look in his eyes, the heartbreaking tears that silently dripped down his cheeks as he wept. She could still recall the last thing he said just before he went mute, shutting out the world from his thoughts.

_You know, if I could've done anything with my life, I would've saved her. _

It was difficult now to discuss anything with the Italian, now that he wallowed in self-pity over the loss of his would-be fiancé. He was certainly not the only one to lose people of importance during the length of the war, but he was one of the survivors that did not move on so easily. Even months after the fact, he still barely spoke. Even Draco could rarely get him to mutter a word, and that was something he regretted.

She looked up at her boyfriend, at least as best as she could. "It's not your fault," she quietly whispered, turning her head a bit so that she could kiss his cheek. "All that can be done now is that we get him some help."

The boy pulled away from her, dropping her hands. She knew he did not want to discuss thing like this, not when they were eating at his heart. The topic of his father was much the same. She knew very well that he had wanted to kill the man for all that he had done- but at the same time, it's difficult to kill your own kin. It felt like a betrayal, and although she did not fully comprehend the volume with which that fact set on his heart, she knew that the aftermath of that experience left him feeling hollow and lost. He no longer had a parent who he could look up to, not with his mother off in France, still unknowing of her husband's demise. Hermione couldn't fathom how he would ever explain the situation to her.

"You don't understand," he bit out, though the remark held no venom. "Everyone in the war that you cared about is either now dead, or recovering. There are not so many in-betweens for you. Sure, a few of the Order members have gone mentally insane, but it's declared as such. Blaise is not really insane, simply silent. He won't talk, therefore he is not coping. Or at least not well." He took a breath. "And you did not kill someone from your own family."

She leaned to her left as she stepped up to him again, resting her head against his arm "No, I don't have all those concerns, just as we have discussed before. But I am right here with you Draco, and I do feel your pain and stress. But until you can contact your mother, until something can be done about poor Blaise, there is little we can do. We have to just keep going on as we are until a time arises that our plans- our situations- change."

He kept looking straight ahead. "Things were supposed to change for the better once the war ended you know. It was not supposed to be a hardship forever."

Hermione nodded, lacing her fingers through his own. "It'll get better, someday."

"But how far away is someday?"

She leaned further into him, and he moved his hand away from her own to drape over her shoulders. Her face rested against his chest, breathing in his intoxicating scent. "I don't think it's too far away. Things get better every day. The emotional scars may not heal for a while, but physically Britain is returning to normal. We just have to keep going with it."

He smiled softly, kissing the top of her head. The bed they sat upon now in his bedroom provided a comfortable place for them to rest, and he was happy to find himself there now. They returned to Hermione's home each day after working- what with her parents still remaining in Australia- and went upstairs to the bedrooms. Although Hermione did like his company, he knew she was not quite ready for the physical acts that could happen if they shared the same bed. Respectfully, he slept in the guest room.

It was quite unordinary indeed to see Draco Malfoy in a muggle home, but she wasn't complaining. This was her muggle home after all- her place of residence since birth- and she quite liked his company there. Without him, she would be living alone, and only bad thoughts could come from that.

She couldn't go stay with the Weasley's, who were still mourning the deaths of Fred and Ron, just as parents were expected to. Just as siblings should. She could not intrude on their home when their minds were so fragile. And with Ginny still recovering at St. Mungo's from the absurd amount of abuse she was dealt, Hermione couldn't stomach the idea of being there. Things were too messed up in the Weasley household just now, even if Arthur was the new Minister. They still had their problems, like everyone else.

Harry would've been the other option. But he was currently living at the school, working with everyone to help get things back to normal again. She argued with him on a day-to-day basis that he needed to give it a rest even for just a few hours, but he neglected to listen. That was Harry though; headstrong. He liked to think that he knew how to handle everything, and sometimes forgot that he was normal now. Sure, he was the savior, but he was still a normal wizard now, his destiny fore filled. He could take the time for a break, but she just didn't think that was going to happen.

So having Draco to keep her company each day really wasn't that bad at all. The girl tilted her head up, letting his lips capture her own again.

Now this was bliss; the simple feeling of happiness within a post war world. The moments they got together that made them forget everything around them, made them think of only each other, were the best above all else. Those were the moments they didn't mind getting lost in.

And hopefully, there would be years more of those memories to come.

_~FIN~_

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**A/n: **It's short for an epilogue, but it's fitting with the story. I hope you enjoyed! Do you want to leave a final review and tell me what you thought overall? I would love it if you would!


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